


Poco Loco

by Tamorasky



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2020-08-10 02:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamorasky/pseuds/Tamorasky
Summary: She thought he had loved her as much as she loved him. But the day he left proved to be the day she would come to realize that everything they had gone through was worthless. The only good that ever came from Héctor Rivera was the fact that he gave Imelda the most important thing in her life; her family.A prequel to Coco throughout various events in Imelda's life from her budding romance with Héctor to their reconciliation in the afterlife.ON HIATUS





	1. Mariachi Plaza

June 1916

It had been the first time in weeks since Imelda was allowed to leave the ranch alone. With her Papá, Oscar, and Felipe in the field all day the option for a male chaperone was out of the question. Her mamá, Josefina was stuck in the kitchen all day making dinner for the boys.  
She had discarded the apron she wore over her purple linen skirt before leaving the house. Her mamá however, had insisted the young woman wear a shawl over her light weight blouse and her corset. The shawl had been discarded into her shopping basket by the time Imelda had reached the edge of Santa Cecilia. She keeps to the busy roads as she was instructed, ignoring the whistling and indecent comments the soldiers made as she walked past. This was something every woman in her town had learned not fight against, only to ignore it.  
Upon reaching the plaza Imelda avoided the groups of older women scattered throughout the square. She had no intention of allowing her mama’s peers prodding her with questions and a potential list of suitors. All of the señoras favorite “potential” suitor for Imelda was Joaquín Pérez Murillo and she didn’t think she could stand anymore polite conversation on how handsome the tailor’s boy had become. Behind him was Diego Arango López, the produce vendor’s son. The list contained the name of three more suitors from respectable families, after that the señoras would remark that Imelda was running out of options.  
As she approaches the Murillo’s stand, she can see in her peripheral three older señoras begin to gossip as Diego approaches her.

“Hola Imelda.” The young man greets her as she looks over the choice of produce.

“Hola. I need four tomatillos, some cilantro, two guajillo chilies, and three jicamas.” Imelda immediately says, trying to remain cold and professional with him.

“Is that all?” He asks, taking a step closer to her. Imelda takes one away from him, obviously uncomfortable with his proximity.

“Sí. That is all.” She responds, her tone firm. He flashes her a smile once more before gathering all of the produce she needs. He hands her the tamatillos first, then the chilies, then the jicamas and the cilantro to place into her basket. She reaches into the leather coin purse, which sat in the bottom of her basket, pulling out 12 pesos for the produce. She holds out the money to him. He looks at the money in her hand and his arrogant smile returns.

“Please, there is no need.” Diego smiles, his gaze never leaving her. Imelda does not meet his gaze, focusing it instead on a group of four young women in the distance. “You look beautiful today Imelda.”  
Imelda looks back at the young man, placing her money on the cart before she walks away without another word. If there was one thing Imelda hated more than chivalry it was flattery, especially if there was an ulterior motive. She ignores the stares of the older women, who had all witnessed her brush off the vendor’s son, walking toward her friends. Imelda silently joins the group, taking her place next to Lucia, who immediately links her arm with Imelda’s.  
“Imelda!” Carmen, the eldest of the group, excitedly greets as she notices Imelda’s presence. Carmen immediately looks to the shortest woman of the group, Gloria, nearly bouncing with excitement. “Go on tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Imelda raises an eyebrow, curious as to what news could’ve developed for Gloria since Tuesday. The short women sighs, clearly exhausted from sharing this piece of news.

“Alejandro asked for my hand.” She states, a smile spreading across her face. Imelda could feel her stomach drop; Gloria was her one friend who was not engaged or already married, her ally.

“That is…wonderful. Congratulations Gloria.” Imelda forces a smile, her grip tightening on Lucia’s arm; who tries hard to mask her slight pain caused by her best friend. Carmen’s gaze goes directly to Imelda, who dreaded the comment that was next out of Carmen’s mouth.

“You’re next Imelda.” She wiggles her eyebrows at Imelda, who rolls her eyes in response. “Amiga, you’re not getting any younger. In a few years there will be no man who will want you.”

“Good, I would prefer it that way.”

“Don’t say such things. I mean, Diego is rather handsome.” Carmen’s gaze goes past Imelda to the young man, who was currently chatting with Doña Ramirez.

“And is awfully dull.”

“And Joaquín? What was your excuse for refusing him?” Carmen crosses her arms, looking back at her friend.

“That cabrón? I think not.”

“I think that answers your question.” Lucia chuckles in response.

“Imelda Adelita Herrera y Posada, I should tell your madre about the use of your language.” Carmen scolds the young woman.

“What about him?” Margarita, the last of the group finally speaks. Nodding towards the pavilion. Imelda turns her head to see who she was referring to; she hadn’t even noticed the two men playing music in the covered space.

“Which one?” Lucia asks.

“Which one do you think? The handsome one.” Margarita scoffs, clearly in her mind there was only one man who was playing music.

“Isn’t that Ernesto Cruz?” Gloria inquires, trying to make the man’s face out better,

“The carpenter's boy?” Lucia asks, Margarita nods in response to both questions. “I thought he was in Mexico City.”

“I thought it was Oaxaca” Gloria remarks.

“It’s not of importance.” Imelda turns back to her friends.

“At least give him a chance.” Margarita says, still gazing at the man, in a rather flirty way. Imelda leans in, smacking the other girl’s arm.

“You are married and with child.” Imelda gestures to Margarita’s slightly protruding belly.

“It doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to look.” She defends, emitting a laugh from most of the young women in the group.

“Who is he playing with?” Lucia inquires, her gaze still resting on the musicians. The group go back to staring at the duo, finally focusing on the skinnier man. Imelda stares at the boy, he seemed so familiar to her.

“I think it is…hungry Héctor.” Margarita answers. The young man smiles nervously at the group of women when he notices them staring at him.

“It’s unmistakably him, all you have to do it look at those ears and that nose.” Gloria giggles as the women look away from the duo. Imelda rolls her eyes in response, she always hated how needlessly cruel her peers could be whenever it concerned the Rivera boy.

“Was it not Héctor who used to follow you everywhere Imelda?” Carmen raises an eyebrow as she questions her friend.

“I remember that! He used to trail on your heels like some street dog.” Margarita adds, recalling the scrawny boy trailing after Imelda in the plaza.

“It was only for a short time and a long time ago. He’s probably forgotten about that by now.” Imelda explains.

“You should call him over here, maybe he can get Ernesto over here to introduce himself to you.” Gloria wiggles her brows at the younger woman.

“And why should I do that?” Imelda implores, her hands resting on her hips in response.

“He comes from a good family Imelda, your mamá would approve of him if you don’t scare him off.” Carmen remarks, crossing her arms.

“It doesn’t really matter than does it? Because I am not calling anyone over here.”

“It’s not needed, he’s already moving towards us.” Margarita informs the group; her gaze barely had left the handsome man.

“He’s what!?” Lucia exclaims, turning to see the musician sauntering towards them; his guitar discarded on the steps of the gazebo. “Why is he doing such a thing?”

“Because I waved him over.” Gloria states.

“Gloria!” Margarita smacks her friend’s arm slightly “You shouldn’t be so familiar with a man who isn’t your intended.”

“He lives next to me; we practically grew up together.” Gloria shrugs her shoulders.

“Bueno días señoritas.” A male voice joins the chorus of female ones, a pleasant smile occupying his face.

“Hola Ernesto” Gloria greets as he joins them.

“Cómo estás?” He asks, his gaze falling on the petite woman.

“Estoy bien, gracias.” She responds pleasantly.

“I don’t believe I’ve been recently acquainted with everyone in your party.” Ernesto states, looking over the group of women.

“Ay! Where are my manners.” Gloria shakes her head as if trying to clear her head. Carmen clears her throat pushing forward towards Ernesto with her hand outstretched.

“I am Carmen Juárez y Lorca and we have Margarita Ruiz Luis, Lucia Cabrera Díaz, and Imelda Herrera Posada.”

“Me complace conocerte.” Ernesto greets, smiling at each of the women; his gaze lingering on Imelda longer than she liked.

“You know if you spent as much time helping me write songs as you did flirt, we’d be rich by now.” A voice quips from behind Ernesto

“Ah listen, how are we going to be famous if we don’t discuss our greatness with these lovely Señoritas.” Ernesto turns to his friend, grabbing him by the arm to join the group.

“Maybe if you two idiotas got real jobs then maybe you would make real money.” Imelda raises an eyebrow, not directly looking at the two men but she could feel Ernesto’s stare burn into her.

“But if we got real jobs, we couldn’t show our…talent to beautiful young Señoritas such as yourself.” Ernesto winks at her somewhat suggestively. Imelda narrows her eyes in disgust at the young man, no longer being able to resist.

“Any chicas who show any interest in you clearly have been kicked in the head by a burro.” Imelda chides. “now, I have to get home.”  
She turns without another word; she can briefly hear the other girls apologizing to Ernesto as she walks away from her friends.  
She switches her basket to her left arm as she walks across the square as it was slowly weighing down on her right arm. She returns home the same way she came; on hot days it took Imelda longer to walk home to the farm. The constant heat wearing down on her, and her mamá’s insistence that she wore a corset every time she went into town made her movements more cumbersome and slower.  
She knew she was fortunate; she knew some of the men used to travel 15km outside of the town just to work on a hacienda for hours on end making barely any money for the hard work they had done. In comparison her walking 5km outside the city in a corset was nothing. As Imelda approached the land, she notices the twins in the field, obviously goofing off as one of them was trying to balance the butt of the rank in his palm while the other encouraged. Her papá yelling at them echoes through the air reaching the road, causing Imelda to chuckle and shake her head.  
Imelda walks through the doorway, her mamá had always kept the front door open on hot days, citing it allowed for air to move through the house which was something Imelda was always skeptical of in her mind it made the house feel even hotter throughout the day. She walks through the comedor to the kitchen to the back of the house, Imelda places the basket on the counter, removing the cloth covering on the supplies. She walks away from the surface to the open back door, which led to the backyard, where her mamá, Josefina, sat cleaning corn into a metal bucket.

“Did Estela have cilantro?” Josefina asks without looking up from her task.

“Sí, she did.”

“Perfecto, now come help me.” Josefina orders, Imelda grabs her apron from the hook hanging by the door and fastens it around her waist before going over to her mamá, sitting on the stool across from her mamá’s.

“You’re late, I was expecting you nearly half an hour ago.” The older woman comments

“Lo siento, Gloria had some news she had to share with everyone.”

“What news?”

“She and Alejandro are engaged.” Imelda says hesitantly.

“How wonderful, I’ll have to speak to her mamá at mass this Sunday. There isn’t a happier day in a mamá’s life until her daughter is finally going to be married.” Josefina states, looking over to her daughter; who simply hums in acknowledgment.  
“Was Diego at the stand today?” Josefina asks after a period of silence.

“Sí, he was. Ernesto Cruz and Hector Rivera are back in town as well.” Imelda says, hoping to change the subject.

“I never realized they were gone. I’m sure María is thrilled, she used to spoil that boy to no end. I never understood why she took in that other boy.” Josefina sighs, dropping the now bare cob back into the same bucket before grabbing another one.

“Señora Cruz is a kind woman.” Imelda remarks, slowly removing the fruit off of the cob

“Sí, that she is but she also took on an unnecessary burden for her and her familia. You’ll understand one day when you marry and have your own children.” Josephina says, picking up a new cob to strip and taking note that her daughter was moving slowly. “I’ll finish this, bring your pobres hermanos some water.”  
Imelda silently nods in response, placing the half-stripped cob back into the bucket as she stands from her stool. Imelda walks back into the kitchen, grabbing three pottery cups and the water jug, which sat on the counter already full. She grabs the jug by the neck and holds the three cups between her fingers as she walks back outside.

“Make sure Oscar and Felipe drink enough water, they get so tired when your papá makes them work in this heat.” Josefina shouts after her daughter as she walks into the field. Her mamá was right, as the day approached the afternoon the temperature was increasing in Santa Cecilia, hotter than it normally was in May; her corset seemed to make everything more difficult in the heat. She found it hard to catch her breath as she walked across the field, slowly moving closer to the figures on the horizon.  
When Oscar and Felipe notice her approaching the two immediately abandon their duties to run to her, both reaching for the water jug.

“ah-ah-ah!” Imelda exclaims, startling both of her brothers as she does so. She holds out the cups to her brothers who both grab two of them. Imelda fills all three cups and leaves the jug with the twins as she walks over to her papá, Raúl, who was looking over the last acre of their land.  
She nearly startles him as she breaks him out of his trance.

“It’s going to be a good year; we may be able to afford a few new farm hands.” He states, grabbing the cup from her hands. “If your Mamá agrees you could help out in the fields this year too.”  
Imelda smiles in response as Raúl places an arm around his daughter’s shoulders as they overlook the fields. A low grumble emits from her father and he pulls away from the embrace, muttering something along the lines of:

“These two are going to be the death of me.”  
Imelda chuckles in response, grabbing the cup from her Papá’s hands as he goes over to lecture his two sons on using equipment properly. Imelda walks over to where her hermanos abandoned their cups along with the now empty water jug, she picks up the discarded dishes and heads back to the house to help her Mamá with supper.


	2. Corazón Orgulloso

June 15, 1916

Imelda lets out a sigh of relief as she walks into the plaza for the second time that week to see Diego was not occupying the produce stand, instead his hermana, Inez stood in his place happily chatting with customers. Imelda approaches the brightly dressed girl, her bright pink skirt almost reflecting in the sunlight and her elaborately embroidered blouse standing out in the crowd of people.

“Imelda! Hola!” Inez cheerfully greets, taking Imelda by the hands in excitement

“Hola Inez, Como estas?”

“Bien gracias.” Inez replies, she then leans in slightly closer to Imelda as if to share a secret with the slightly older girl. “Diego isn’t here today.” 

Imelda blinks in response, slightly embarrassed that it was obvious that Diego was pursuing her.

“Well… I hope everything is going well then.” Imelda plainly responds, hoping not to incite anymore conversation about her and Diego. “I need five tomatillos, 2 anchos, 3 avocados, 2 limones, 4 tomatoes, and 2 chayotes.” 

“No corn? We have lots of husks.” Inez inquires.

“No, we still have a small plot of corn remaining.” Imelda responds, thankful that her Papá had some sense to keep a small portion of land for corn to sell since Senora Lopez had paid him to grow sorghum instead. Inez nods before grabbing the produce Imelda had asked for, she begins to talk to Imelda as she gathers the produce, but Imelda doesn’t hear a word of the girl as she notices a skinny figure staring at her from across the plaza. 

“That’ll be 15 pesos.” Inez says, making Imelda pause as she grabs her money. 

“It was 12 last week.” Imelda states, furrowing her brow in confusion by the change in price. Since the war had started, they saw a slight increase in price for goods, but never ones that were this rapid.

“It shouldn’t have been…Its been 15 for your order since February.” Inez explains meekly, obviously worried about being yelled at by the slightly older woman. Imelda’s frustration melts when she sees the young girl’s brow furrow, making her seem like she was going to cry, after all it wasn’t Inez’s fault.

“Oh, I must’ve been mistaken. One of those mornings.” Imelda fakes a smile, handing over the 15 pesos without another word. There was no way after today she’d allow Diego to continue to give her discounts on produce after today, as it seemed he had been for the past four months. Imelda places her items into her basket, smiling up at the girl. 

“Gracias Imelda.” Inez says as Imelda picks up her basket.

“Adiós Inez.” Imelda replies before walking away from the stand, still noticing the man staring at her. She continues to ignore him and walks over to Senora Diaz’s cart for flowers. She stands behind an older woman, patiently waiting for Senora Diaz to finish up with the doña. Her gaze goes to the Yuccas that sat near the front of the cart, knowing better than to grab then as Senora Diaz was very particular with selling her flowers. 

“Are Yuccas your favourite?” a man’s voice nearly makes Imelda jump out of her skin. She turns to her left to see the same scarecrow who had been staring at her was now standing next to her, his thumbs looped in his suspenders and rocking on the balls of his feet.

“No, they are for my mamá.” She simply replies, hoping he would leave or not engage in conversation. To her relief Senora Diaz grabs the Yuccas Imelda was staring at as the older woman leaves the cart.

“The regular for your mamá?” The vendor asks.

“Sì por favour.” Imelda smiles in response, handing her 3 pesos and grabbing the flowers from Senora Diaz, whose gaze went to the lanky boy next to Imelda.

“Are you buying anything Héctor?” The older woman asks

“Ah, no Doña.” He responds, scratching the back of his head. Imelda raises an eyebrow at the young man before walking away from the flower stand. She gently places the flowers in her basket as she hear almost a frantic scurrying behind her. Imelda looks up from her basket to see Héctor standing next to her…again. 

“Soy Héctor.” He states, Imelda stares at him, clearly unimpressed.

“Lo sé” Imelda pushes past the young man, walking at a brisk pace away from him.

“Of course, you do, I remember you so why shouldn’t you remember me.” He chuckles nervously as he easily matches her pace. Making Imelda curse her height. 

“What do you want Señor Rivera?” 

“Jeez is there really a need to be so formal, after all we were children together Imelda.” 

“Señorita Herrara.” She corrects the young man. “What do you want mariachi?” 

“Well I was going to offer to help you with your shopping.” He states. 

“I’ve finished my shopping.

“Ah then perhaps I can carry your basket home for you, it looks quite heavy.”

“I can manage. Goodbye Señor Rivera.” Imelda says coldly before walking away from the lanky young man, not noticing the smile that was spreading across his face and hoping that would be the end of it.

~

June 18, 1916

Imelda stares up at the ceiling as she hears her mother walk down to the hall to the young woman’s room. She knows it was time to rise from bed, even though Imelda had been awake for the past 20 minutes.

As if on cue Josefina knocks on her bedroom door loudly, “Mija, it is time to get up. We don’t want to be late.”

“I’ll be down soon mamá.” Imelda responds as she sits up in her bed, ignoring the creaks it makes as she gets up. She doesn’t bother placing a housecoat over her nightgown, her bedroom was already too hot for comfort. She walks over to her armoire, pulling out her undergarments. She pulls her white linen nightgown over her head, discarding it on the bed. 

She places her undergarments on quickly, clasping the corset in the front rather than tieing it in the back. Her back and posture straighten as she closes the corset, just as her mother always insists on. She struggles to initially catch her breath in the restricting garment, as she moves back to her armoire, grabbing a white blouse which had lilies embroidered along the collar and her purple skirt with a lace pattern sewn onto the hemline.

Imelda closes her bedroom door behind her, knowing it was the best way to keep the twins out of it. She makes her way downstairs to the kitchen, where Josefina was already awake, assembling breakfast in the kitchen which smelled like eggs.

“Ah, you’re awake. Come help me assemble these before your hermanos wake.” Josefina nods to two unfinished huevos rancheros. Imelda walks to her mother’s side at the table which sat in the kitchen. Imelda spreads the salsa onto the tortillas and then adds one egg to each. She finishes it by spooning some more salsa over the egg and spreading some cilantro, avocado, and cheese over the dish.

“Should I go wake Óscar and Felipe?” She asks, picking up the two plates to take to the dining table.

“No, let your probres hermanos sleep. Your papá overworks them.” Josefina says, placing the other two plates on the table. Imelda rolls her eyes when her mamá walks back to the kitchen to grab the remaining plate, it was common for Josefina to allow the twins to skip church during the summer months.

“Don’t let your mamá catch you doing that.” Raúl’s voice startles Imelda as she places his plate down at the head of the table. 

“Don’t let me catch her doing what?” Josefina re-enters the room, her eyebrow raised skeptically. 

“Ah, it’s nothing.” Raúl loops his suspender over his shoulder before sitting down at the table. He picks up the tortilla on his plate, getting ready to eat his breakfast. 

“Ah-ah-ah! We haven’t given thanks yet.” Josefina scolds, placing the remaining plate at her spot at the table.

“Have you woken the boys yet Imelda?” Raúl sighs, placing his food down. 

“Mamá told me not to.” Imelda reiterates her mother’s words from before. She stands behind her chair, not sitting down just in case her mamá needed her to do something else.

“Por qué?” We have a lot to do today.” Raúl questions, Imelda shrugs her shoulders in response.

“Because they work hard as it. You don’t need them to help you every minute of every day. You treat those pobres niños the same way those hacienda owners treat their workers.” Josefina huffs in frustration, placing her hands on her hips.

“Mija, go wake your hermanos.” Raúl calmly asks, clearly trying to keep his temper. Imelda nods silently before removing herself from the room. She makes her way up the stairs, moving the room at the end of the hall; which used to be her parents when she was a small child until the twins were born.

She walks into the room without knocking, her brother’s metal-framed beds at opposite ends of the room.

“Óscar, Felipe. Papá needs you two up, mamá has desayuno ready.” Imelda calls from the door, Óscar lets out a groan in frustration. Imelda sighs, daring to cross into the room and flipping the blankets off of Óscar and then Felipe.

“Levántate!” She bellows before leaving the room, leaving the door open. Imelda marches back downstairs to the dining room, where both of her parents sat silently. Imelda takes her seat to the right of her father.

“Let’s pray. Imelda and I have to get to church.” Josefine states as Imelda sits. Imelda folds her hands on her lap and bows her head as her father begins: 

“Bendícenos, Señor, y estos, Tus dones, que estamos a punto de recibirde de

Tu generosidad. Por Cristo, nuestro Señor. Amén.”

“Amén.” Both Imelda and Josefina repeat after Raúl, who immediately begins to eat.

“I can hitch up the horses and take you into town.” Raúl offers, in between bites.

“No te preocupes. We can walk.”

“I’ll take you two to church. I’m sure padre Luis wouldn’t look well on you being late for mass.” Raúl insists, taking another bite of his meal. Josefina sighs in response, but her mood visible changes when the twins walk into the room.

“Ah, Mijos how did you two sleep.”

“Good.” The two respond simultaneously, Felipe taking a seat next to their mamá and Óscar next to Imelda. She stares at her brothers, appalled at the rate her brothers consume their breakfast.

“Ve más despacio!” Imelda scolds, “You two will choke at the rate you’re going.”

“Don’t raise your voice at the table.” Josefina scolds Imelda in return, who sighs in response. Imelda finishes her breakfast and stands, grabbing her and Raúl’s empty dishes to take to the kitchen.

She pours water from the water jug into the basin, submerging the two dishes and grabbing a rag to wash them both. She looks to the other dishes, neatly stacked next to the basin and sighs. 

“We’ll wash them when we return home,” Josefina says as she stands next to the younger woman, placing the other three dishes next to the other dishes.

“Are you sure?” Imelda asks, knowing her mamá hated leaving a mess.

“Sí. Your papá is right, if we were late for church I would never hear the end of it from Luisa y Teresa. Vamos, your papá probably has the horses hooked up to the cart already.”

“Okay.” Imelda nods, wiping her hands dry on the dishcloth as Josefina leaves the kitchen. Imelda sighs as she throws the cloth onto the counter before following her mamá’s footsteps to the front door.

As predicted Raúl was waiting in the frontcourt, Josefina was seated next to Raúl in the front of the carriage. Imelda approaches the back of the carriage, her boots clicking against the cobblestones.

“Do you want help up Mija?” Raúl calls from the front. 

“No, I am fine.” Imelda insists, picking up her skirt in one hand and placing the other on the bed of the carriage, lifting herself into the back. She holds on to the side of the carriage as her papá pulls the carriage forward.

Imelda sighs as she watches dirt accumulate on her skirt, knowing Josefina would make a comment upon reaching the church. She watches as her family home disappears over the horizon, kicking her feet as the carriage moves.

She has to steady herself by grabbing the side of the carriage when they reach the town as the roads were in worse shape than the rural roads were. Raúl stops the carriage at the plaza, a block away from the church as the roads were too narrow near the church. Josefina and Imelda slip off of the carriage onto the street.

“We’ll walk home.” Josefina states as her feet hit the ground. 

“Okay.” Raúl nods, not bothering to insist otherwise, knowing it would only result in a squabble with his wife. Imelda follows closely behind Josefina, her gaze remaining on the back of her mamá’s bun. As they approach the church Imelda notices a mass of people gathered at the front, all talking with each other.

Imelda follows Josefina to the door as the congregation started to go into the church.

“Remember I need to find Teresa after mass to congratulate Gloria on her engagement,” Josefina says. Imelda nods in acknowledgment, knowing Josefina wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if either one of them forgot. “Ah Mija! Your skirt, what did you do?”

“Lo siento, Juanita and Juana were kicking up more dirt than usual.” Imelda excuses herself, standing awkwardly as Josefina started brushing the dirt off of her skirt.

“Josefina” A woman’s voice pipes up in the crowd, Imelda notices a shorter woman making her way through the crowd to them. Josefina stands straight as she hears her name being called.

“Ah, María cómo estás?” Josefina greets as the other woman joins the two of them.

“Bien, gracias y tú?”

“Bien.” Josefina responds with a smile “I heard Ernesto is back in town, I’m sure your quite happy.”

“Very much so. He travels so long at a time; I never know what to do with myself.” María chuckles before glancing at the younger woman. “Imelda! I hear every day of how bonita you’ve become, I’m glad to see it’s true.”

“Gracias.” She says graciously.

“If only I could convince my Ernestitio to settle down with a mujer hermosa like Imelda.”

“I understand what you mean, Imelda’s decided to take her courtship into her own hands.” Josefina sighs in response, María looks to Imelda.

“Careful, you may be beautiful now but that will eventually fade and your ability to have children will go with it.

“Gracias por el consejo.” Imelda smiles politely, her hands folded in front of her.

“I’m sure you have your hands full now with Ernesto back.” Josefina recalls, changing the subject away from Imelda.

“Sí! But I am happy to have him back, I miss him so much when he travels.” María beams as she talks about her son.

“Where was he?” Imelda asks, inserting herself back into the conversation.

“Ah, no se. I have to admit I don’t pay attention to where he has been, at this point I’m sure he’s been to all parts of the country.” María brags. “Héctor and him travel nonstop these days, I worry for both of them with the war going on.”

“So, Héctor is still a tenant of yours?” Josefina asks.

“Sí, but I don’t know if he’ll be with us much longer. He’s never been able to stay in one place for long.” 

“Just like his father.” Josefina comments, her eyebrows raising as she speaks.

“He very much is.” María stammers, obviously trying to agree with Josefina’s point of view. She had always had a soft spot for Héctor since the boy’s mother had died, she had taken in and cared for him as if he was her own. Something Imelda always admired about the rather odd woman.

Imelda’s attention wavers from the conversation as she sees two men running down the street towards the church. Imelda watches amusingly as she watches the two attempting to shove or trip one another. She could tell it was Héctor and Ernesto from a mile away, Héctor was in the lead.

They come skidding to a stop as they reach the church courtyard, Héctor bends over, trying to catch his breath. Ernesto comes up behind him, still out of breath but not as much as Héctor.

“You two were almost late.” María comments, her hand resting on her hip as she watches the two boys in amusement.

“Lo sientimos.” Héctor speaks up in between breaths, standing up straight. “Someone wouldn’t get out of bed.” 

“Lo siento Mamá.” Ernesto walks over to his mother, placing an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss on her cheek.

“Imelda and I shoulder be heading in anyway.” Josefina imputes, a smile spreading on her face as she watched Ernesto interact with his mother.

“As should we. Let’s sit together.” María suggests.

“It’s alright, I’m afraid we’ll only slow you down. I haven’t been able to move like I used to since Felipe’s accident.” Josefina responds

“No te preocupes, no temenos prisa.” María insists, looping her arm in Josefina’s as the two older women begin to move forward.

“I could run ahead and get us a seat.” Ernesto offers with his most charming smile. Josefina smiles as María beams with pride for her polite son.

“That would be wonderful Mijo.” María accepts. Ernesto turns from the women, quickly walking into the church. The two women advance in front of Imelda and Héctor, who gives the young woman a nervous smile.

“Are you following me?” Imelda asks

“It would seem so wouldn’t it?” Héctor chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets. Imelda crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at the young man, who stares back at her with a grin on his face. Imelda turns on her heel without another word, following her mamá’s step into the church.

“But, of course, I’m not. I wouldn’t follow you, that would be just loco.”

“Sí, it would be. So, would be pursuing a senorita who hasn’t shown any interest in a certain young man.” Imelda quips, looking at the young man from the corner of her eye. His grin hadn’t disappeared, which slightly irritates Imelda.

“Well maybe I’m un poco loco then.”

“I don’t have time for games Héctor.” Imelda stops to finally look at him.

“Are we now on first-name basis Señorita Herrara?” Héctor waggles his eyebrows at her. Imelda turns from him and enters the church, not bothering to hold the door open for him. She hears an audible groan from what she assumes is the door closing on him. Imelda spots her mamá and María sitting in the pew near the middle of the church. The two older women were seated near the middle of the pew, Ernesto sitting on the end. Imelda sighs, realizing that she’d have to sit next to Héctor during service.

Ernesto stands as Imelda approaches the pew, letting her sit next to María. Héctor slips in next to Imelda, sitting next to her and leaving Ernesto the end seat. She’s relieved when Ernesto starts up a conversation with Héctor, allowing her some peace.

Yolanda begins playing the procession loudly as everyone in the church stand. Imelda keeps her eyes forward as padre Luis along with others makes their way up to the sanctuary. The music cuts as the priest reaches the front, saying a short prayer before he begins to light candles on the altar.

Yolanda begins playing the greeting hymn for the morning, a rather odd choice in Imelda’s opinion, but her favourite. Imelda doesn’t grab her hymnal, knowing all the words to “Ave María.”

She begins to sing with the congregation, a slight smile forming on her face and she sings along. Until she catches him in the corner of her eye. She stops singing and looks to Héctor, who was staring at her in awe.

“Qué?” Imelda asks, her smile disappearing from her face.

“N..nothing. It’s just…I’ve never heard you sing.” Héctor stammers before nervously staring down at his hymnal. Imelda looks away from the young man, not knowing the impact that day had on Héctor.


	3. Juanita

June 20, 1916

Imelda stands at the kitchen counter mixing lard and shortening together in a large bowl, adding masa dough until the mixture becomes uniform.

“Mija, remember to add sal.” Josefina says, sitting at the small kitchen table separating the corn leaves.

“Sí mamá.” Imelda responds, adding salt to the mixture along with a small amount of baking powder. She wipes the sweat off her brow with her forearm before going back to mixing the masa.

“Are you almost done?” Josefina asks, standing up to check on the water heating on the stove.

“I just finished.” Imelda announces, scraping her hands against the bowl to get large portions of the dough off her hands. Imelda grabs the bowl, bringing it over to the small kitchen table and places it next to Josefina.

“Cheese.” Josefina simply says, placing a bowl full of cheese in between them. Imelda and Josefina both take some dough and a slice of cheese, placing them into the long leaves and wrap them in a triangular shape. The two of them repeat this process until the dough is gone. Imelda grabs a portion of the remaining leaves and places them into the pot with the water. Josefina approaches the corundas in hand and begins to place them into the pot one by one. Imelda grabs the last of the leaves and brings them over once Josefina finishes putting the corundas in the pot. Imelda covers the food with the remaining leaves to help the corunda steam before placing the pot lid on.

“I’ll come to find you in 40 minutes to start the salsa.” Josefina says, wiping her hands on her apron. Imelda grabs a wet cloth and begins to wipe the counter clean. “This is only the first day and I’m exhausted.”

Imelda turns her head to see her mamá sitting at the kitchen table to rest.

“We have to do this for the entire season.”

“And what’s worse we have one extra mouth to feed, your papá hired one more person.”

“Why? Mateo and Arturo barely do anything before harvest.”

“No lo sé. Your papá seems intent on giving a job to any man who comes begging for one.” Josefina huffs. “You look tired mija, why don’t you go have a laydown. I’ll come to get you when it’s time to start the salsa.”

“Are you sure? I was going to wipe the table."

“I can do that. Go have a laydown.” Josefina insists. Imelda nods, placing the cloth near her mamá before heading to her room.

Imelda closes her room door behind her, sighing as she does so. She doesn’t even bother taking off her boots as she lays down on her bed. She stares out of her window, listening to the birds outside. The last thing she planned to do was listen to her mamá, but she found herself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

It was the noise that woke her from her nap, a dull thudding echoing through her house. Imelda takes this as an indicator to get out of bed. She makes her way back to the kitchen, from where the noise was coming from.

Josefina stands over the stove, cooking the chili sauce and adding some cheese into the mixture.

“You could have woken me.” Imelda says, placing her apron on. 

“I’m capable of making salsa on my own.” Josefina states, stirring in cheese to the boiling mixture. Imelda walks over to the pot which was now sitting next to the stove. Imelda takes off the pot lid, checking on the corundas. “Can you plate those mija? Save eight for us and the boys.”

Imelda nods, grabbing the pot off the counter and placing it on the kitchen table. She goes to the shelves, grabbing several plates and one serving dish. She places 2 corundas onto 4 plates, setting them aside. The remaining corundas are placed on the serving dish to take out to the farmhands.

“Alright.” Josefina says, picking up the pan with the salsa and brings it over to the table, pouring the sauce onto each plate and finally pouring the remaining sauce onto the serving platter. Imelda grabs spoons for the men, placing the cutlery in the pocket of her apron. She grabs the serving dish, balancing it on her hip while she grabs the remaining plates.

Imelda makes her way outside, the twins nearly running over her as they come in for lunch.

“Ah! Slow down would you two!” Imelda scolds as she stands in the doorway. The two of them ignore her, heading directly to the food.

“Gracias mamá!” the two say in unison. Imelda rolls her eyes, walking away as Josefina begins to say grace. Imelda walks into the back, which was filling with men’s laughter and oddly enough a guitar. Imelda walks closer to the outside table where 4 men sat, the one playing guitar.

_“Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in._

_ And her chiches they drag on the floor._

_ Her hair is like a briar, she stands in a bow-legged stance.”_

Imelda walks closer to the table, noticing the singer was the same musician who had been harassing her for the last week. Imelda stalks closer to the table, stopping when Hector makes eye contact with her as he sings the last lines.

_“and if I weren’t so ugly…she’d possibly give me a chance_.”

Imelda stands still as he brushes the last chord, his stare not leaving hers. She approaches the table, placing the serving dish and plates on the surface.

“You know you're quite good Héctor.” Raul says to the young man. “I understand why you and Ernesto try to make a living out of this.”

“Gracias, but really I taught him all he knows.” Héctor quips, causing the men at the table to laugh in response.

“Not humble in the slightest.” One of the workers, Mateo comments as Imelda distributes the plates. 

“No, he’s right. Ernesto is really the least talented out of the two of them.” Imelda responds, placing a plate in front of Héctor.

“G-gracias.” Hector fumbles in response.

“You should feel proud of yourself Héctor, it’s not every day my Imelda pays someone a compliment.” Raul chuckles. Imelda feels herself crack a smile as she places the last place in front of Arturo.

“I remember saying when she was little, she was going to be a handful. Don’t you remember that?” Arturo chuckles, helping himself to the corundas.

“I remember y tenías razón.” Raul agrees. “Just last month some pobre chico came to the house, asking to court her and proclaiming his love for her. Josefina actually thought that Imelda would go for him and persuaded her to go outside to meet him. I’ve never seen a shoe fly that fast at someone’s face.”

The men at the table begin to laugh, all of them looking at Imelda, who shrugs in response.

“He got handsy without my permission.” Imelda states, serving the remaining corundas to the three other men.

“Gracias mija.” Raul says as Imelda grabs the serving dish off the table and brings it back inside. Imelda looks behind her, noticing Héctor still staring after her.

* * *

Imelda is sent out to fetch more water later in the afternoon. She grabs the two largest clay jugs from the kitchen, carrying them out to the well, which was located closer to the fields than the house about 5 minutes from the house on foot.

Imelda places the jugs down at the base of the well when she reaches it. She grabs the bucket sitting on the well wall, tossing it into the well, grabbing the rope to prevent it from falling in. She pulls on the rope, heaving the water up using all her strength, but having a little difficulty. She swears under her breath when she hears the bucket fall back into the water, undoing all her progress.

“Want some help?”

Imelda looks up to see Héctor coming out of the field, walking towards her.

“With those skinny arms I doubt you could do any better. But me my guest.” Imelda says, handing the rope over to him. Héctor chuckles, grabbing it from her. With much struggle Héctor manages to get the water above ground. “Okay, show off. Now do it three more times and I’ll consider the job done.”

Imelda grabs the bucket from him, pouring it into the first jug, filling it up halfway. Héctor takes the bucket back, letting it swing back into place before he lowers it down again.

“So my music, muy impresionante no?” Héctor asks.

“I’d be more impressed if the songs you wrote weren’t filthy bar songs.”

“Not all my songs are like that.” Héctor defends, pulling up the bucket.

“No? what are they then? All love songs?” 

“Some are. We have one that is a Huapango style that isn’t. It’s Ernesto’s favorite.” 

“And what’s is about? The grand adventures of some revolutionary making his way home?” Imelda inquires, grabbing the bucket and filling the first jug. 

“No, it’s about, well, having the world being our family.” Héctor states, grabbing the bucket and allowing it to swing back into the well.

“Rather inconsiderate don’t you think?” Imelda questions, crossing her arms. 

“Not really.” Héctor shrugs “I mean out of the two of us, Ernesto has family."

“Lo siento…” Imelda breaks eye contact with the young man, her gaze going to the ground.

“Está bien.”

“I should’ve remembered.” Imelda voice cracks, for once feeling regret for her choice of words. She sees Héctor fill the second jug, before casting the bucket down once more. 

“Really Imelda, está bien. My mamá passed long ago now. You don’t have to feel so bad.” Héctor says, pulling up the bucket. Imelda takes the bucket from him once more, filling the second jug.

“Gracias por ayudar.” Imelda says, finally meeting his gaze again.

“Por supuesto. I’ll help you carry them in, these jugs are quite heavy.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?”

“Your papá is giving me a quick break. Let me help you.” Héctor insists, picking up the two jugs. “Lead the way.”

Imelda sighs and begins to lead him to the house. Héctor trailing behind her by 2 paces. Imelda walks into the doorway of the kitchen, looking over her shoulder at the young man.

“Take off your shoes. Mamá hates a dirty kitchen floor.”

“Where should I put them?” Héctor asks, standing in the doorway.

“On your head for all I care.” Imelda huffs. She watches the young man struggle to shimmy off his boots. Imelda rolls her eyes, marching towards him. “Just give me them. I can go from here.” 

Imelda grabs the first jug from Héctor, placing it inside next to the door and then grabs the other one from him.

“Gracias.” Imelda thanks once more, standing up straight.

“Imelda! Come eat, we have things to do.” Josefina calls, walking into the kitchen. The older woman stops, noticing the young man at the door. “Héctor, can we help you with something?”

“Ah, no. Lo siento Señora.” Héctor stutters, awkwardly walking away from the doorway.

“What was he doing in the house?” Josefina asks as Imelda turns from the door.

“He was helping me bring in the water.”

“You’ve never needed help before. Imelda, I would appreciate it if you stayed away from that boy. No respectable family would let you in as a nuera if you continue to associate yourself with him.” Josefina begins to wash dishes in a basin, muttering to herself. Imelda nods, walking into the dining room without another word.

* * *

June 29, 1916

Imelda walks up the Arango’s produce stand, going directly to Inez to avoid Diego. An action which was unsuccessful, as Diego inserted himself between the two young women. 

“Hola Imelda.” He greets with a smile. “What can I do for you today?” 

“I need 4 tomatoes, 3 jicamas, 6 tomatillos, 2 poblanos, and cilantro. Por favor."

“Of course. Ah, been to the butcher already I see. What did you get today?” 

“Some chicken, pork shoulder, and chorizo.”

“Ah, your mamá must be cooking for the farmhands again yes?” Diego asks, leaning on the stand closer to Imelda.

“She is.”

“Must be heavy, You know I can help you c-“

“IMELDA!” A voice calls, cutting off Diego. Imelda turns to see Héctor approaching her. “I thought it must be you.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the farm?” Imelda asks, raising her eyebrow. 

“Your papá told me not to come until the afternoon. So, Ernesto and I are playing this morning.” Héctor explains Imelda looks past the young man to see Ernesto sitting on the gazebo steps, glaring at the two of them.

“He doesn’t seem so happy that you're over here talking to me.” Imelda notes.

“Yeah, well he thinks you’re a distraction.” Héctor says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And am I?” Imelda asks, taking her money out of her basket to hand to Diego.

“That’ll be 15 pesos today Imelda.” Diego says as Imelda takes out the small purse. She takes out 18 pesos instead, handing it over to the young man. He furrows his brows in confusion as she hands him the money.

“Inez was kind enough to inform me last week that I haven’t been paying the right amount for my groceries. I assume this is the last time this will happen.” 

“O-of course.” Diego shrinks back, obviously embarrassed for being caught giving Imelda discounts. Imelda places the produce into her basket, readjusting the bag on her arm. 

“Do you want help carrying that back to your home?” Héctor asks, noticing the red line developing on her arm.

“I actually was going to offer my services to Imelda as well.” Diego informs the other young man. Héctor scratches his head nervously, clearing not wanting to get into an altercation with Diego

“No, I can manage fine.” Imelda says “Good day.”

Imelda turns from the two men and walks into the square. She hears footsteps trailing behind her, she spins on her heel to see Héctor walking behind her. 

“Do you not take no for an answer?” She snaps. 

“Well, I’m actually getting my case for my guitar.” Héctor points to the gazebo, which was in the same direction Imelda was indeed walking in. Imelda feels her face heat up as her cheeks turn light pink, realizing her mistake.

“Oh…l…lo siento.” Imelda quietly says. Héctor smiles in response to her apology.

“I’m sorry what was that?” He asks, cupping his ear to hear her better. Imelda smacks him on the arm as he chuckles.

“With those ears, I doubt you didn’t hear me.”

“Hey!” Héctor exclaims, feigning offendedness, placing a hand on his chest. “My mamá always said my ears were my best feature.”

“Are you sure she didn’t think your best feature was your nose?”

“Well…that too. I mean my mamá just though I was muy guapo. I think she was right.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. Imelda holds back a smirk in response, shifting her basket to her other arm. He looks down at her basket once one. “Are you sure you don’t want help carrying that? I have to head to the farm soon anyway.”

“I can manage Héctor.” 

“Would you object to me walking to the farm with you?” Héctor asks.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Imelda responds, shaking her head. 

“Okay, wait for me for one moment.” Héctor makes for the gazebo, exchanging a couple of words with his partner. Closing up his guitar case, leaving it with Ernesto and slaps him on the shoulder before heading back to Imelda. “Vamonos!”

Hector mostly talks as the two of them walk back to the farm. He mostly about music or his travels with Ernesto throughout the country

“And this life suits you? Travelling all over the place and not being home for a long period of time?”

“I mean yeah. I don’t have much of a family here and how else would I be able to play for the world if I stay in Santa Cecilia?” Héctor questions, Imelda remains quiet knowing he was right, no one ever came from Santa Cecilia and made something of themselves.

Héctor begins to kick the gravel as they walk along the rural road. He begins to skid on the small rocks, sending him a couple of inches in front of Imelda. He then, very unexpectedly breaks into a sprint to gain momentum and skids against the gravel, his arms spread out to keep his balance. He stops for a moment to wait for Imelda when she catches us he repeats the same action again. 

“It’s like walking with my hermanos.” Imelda says, approaching him a second time. Héctor laughs in response.

“Do you ever act like a child? Cause I’m starting to convince myself that I don’t think you ever were one.” He retorts, which manages to crack a smile from Imelda.

“Hold this.” She says, shoving her basket into his hands. She picks up her blue skirt and sprints before skidding on the gravel. As she comes to a stop, she hears Héctor coming up behind her, a smile on his face. The two begin skidding on the gravel, Héctor often came further forward than Imelda. She would immediately make up the distance, pulling ahead of him until he went again.

They stop as they approach the house, Héctor still carried the basket, relieving Imelda of her burden. 

“Did you try to push me?” Héctor asks as they come onto the land, referring to earlier as they skidded on the road. Imelda shrugs 

“I used to be quite as competitive as a child.”

“I remember that you nearly broke my nose playing tag once.”

“You were in my way I recall.” Imelda giggles as they stop in front of the house.

“I don’t think that warrants a palm to my face.” Héctor shakes his head. The two of them begin laughing together, recalling the memory.

Imelda looks up, seeing her mamá through the window, her heart drops.

“I-I should go in.” Imelda reaches for her basket. Héctor’s smile drops as she talks.

“Of course.” Héctor hands the basket back over to her.

“Buen día, Héctor.” Imelda says as she walks through the door. Not hearing his bid Farwell to her in return. Imelda sighs as she enters the house, walking into the kitchen.

“Mija! Where have you been?” Josefina asks, joining her daughter in the kitchen.

“Lo siento…” Imelda mutters, not knowing what excuse to give her. She opens her mouth, getting ready to make up a story.

“What is on your skirt?” Josefina exclaims, grabbing Imelda’s skirt to inspect the mark closer. “Is that dirt? What on earth were you doing?”

“Ah, a cart passed me on the way…the horses must’ve kicked up some dirt.” Imelda lies, placing the basket on the kitchen table. 

“Well never mind that. What did you get?” Josefina rhetorically asks as she unpacks the basket’s contents. Imelda wanders over to the open door of the kitchen, which looked into the back. She leans against the doorway, watching the silhouettes of men working in the fields. Her gaze falling on the one which was obviously Héctor, perhaps she had been too hard on him once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to give credit where credit is due, but the recipe and method of cooking are taken from a youtube channel: De mi Rancho a Tu Concina.  
If you love cooking, I highly recommend checking it out.


	4. Solo por ahora

July 11, 1916

Imelda waited near the pavilion that morning. For the past week Héctor had been waiting for Imelda in this spot to accompany her as she shopped. He was usually there before she was in the morning, just not today.

Imelda taps her fingers on the handle of her basket as she waits, her foot tapping along with it. She had been waiting for nearly 10 minutes and was starting to lose her patience. If she didn’t start soon, she would be late getting home and no doubt would receive a lecture from her mamá. She waits for a few more minutes, before deciding to go about her business, Héctor could join her whenever he showed up.

Imelda makes her way over to Señor Alverez, who didn’t have an official stand. He laid down linen on the ground and piled his catch of the morning on the linen, always choosing a shaded spot in the plaza to sell fish. 

“Bueno Dias señorita.” He smiles at the young women, Imelda responds with a smile as well, no longer off put by the old man’s missing teeth.

“Bueno dias. What do you have today?” Imelda asks, looking over the fish.

“I got some carpa, bajo, pescado blaco.”

“Give me two carpa and 4 pescados.” Imelda responds, handing him some cloth to wrap her order in.

“Tu amante no está contigo. Where did he go?” The man asks, looking around the plaza for Héctor.

“No, it’s not like that. He’s not anything like that to me.”

“Ah, well if he knows what’s good for him, he shouldn’t wait any longer.” Señor Alverez chuckles, handing Imelda the fish. She places it into her basket, taking out her money to pay him.

“Gracias Señor.” Imelda says, leaving without another word to the old man. Imelda crosses the plaza over to the panadería. She looks into her basket, making sure the fish were covered properly. Imelda opens the door to the panadería, as she tries to cross the threshold, someone stands in her way.

Imelda doesn’t even have to look at the person’s face to know who it was, the dress was a dead giveaway. She wore an ankle length red dress with a tiered skirt and a pair of heeled shoes. It was Catalina Mareno Barbero, the mayor’s daughter. She stares as Imelda expectedly, as the two women stand in the doorway. Imelda sighs, stepping to the side to allow the girl through.

“How kind of you Imelda.” She smiles, stepping through the doorway. Imelda nods in response, she plans on walking into the panadería without another word. “Cómo estás?”

“Estoy bien, gracias.” Imelda sighs, knowing she wouldn’t be getting away that easily.

“Bueno yo soy genial.” Catalina interjects. “Did you notice my dress? Papá brought it from the Estados Unidos.” She twists a little, making the tiers of her dress follow her movement. Imelda uses everything in her will not to roll her eyes at the girl, something which once had gotten her in a lot of trouble from her mamá.

“muy agradable.” Imelda responds dismissively. “Well I need to continue on. Mamá wants me back home by noon.”

“Of course, back to the farm. I must say I do not envy you. All that hard work in the sun all day, I couldn’t bare it.”

“It does take a certain constitution that you don’t possess.” Imelda smiles at Catalina, re-opening the door to the panadería to leave. Instead, someone walks through the door as she opens it. Imelda’s shocked to see the scrawny figure emerge from the building, holding a lady’s basket. It was Héctor.

Imelda raises an eyebrow at the young man, who wouldn’t look at her in the eye.

“I hope you don’t mind I stole Héctor for the morning.” Catalina says, linking her arm with his and smiling at Imelda.

“Trust me when I say. You didn’t inconvenience me in the slightest.” Imelda fumes, shoving past the pair without another word into the panadería. She approaches the counter, ignoring her feelings the best she can. 

She purchases a few conchas for breakfast the next morning, knowing the boys would appreciate the sweet bread for a treat. She buys a couple loaves of bolillo for the dinner table, as her mamá had instructed.

She avoids looking at Héctor and Catalina as they continue their shopping around the square, currently shopping for produce. She says a quiet thanks to God, as she hadn’t needed to shop for produce for the day.

She strides out of the towns as fast as her legs could carry her, not wanting to spend another moment in it. She also didn’t want anyone to notice the tears which she was fighting back. 

She slows her pace when she gets out of the town, walking slowly down the rural road, she wouldn’t make it home before noon. At this point she didn’t care.

How could she be such a fool? To think Héctor would actually fancy her, when he could be with a mild-mannered girl like Catalina. It wasn’t uncommon for the boys in Santa Cecilia to pretend interest in one girl to get another’s attention. It was something Imelda didn’t want a part of and yet how did she find herself in this situation?

She begins grinding her teeth as she walks. Why did she even care what that idiot did? After all, they were only friends, wasn’t that a boundary she had established in the beginning? Of course, he was going to find interest in other women and of course women were going to be drawn to him eventually. He was charming, passionate, cheerful, boisterous, and so much more. Even with that nose and those ears, which many people teased him about, had a certain endearing aspect to them.

Imelda stops to wipe the tears that finally spilled down her cheeks. She hated the fact that she was crying over him, she had better things to do.

* * *

Josefina sends Imelda out to the small plot they had to collect some corn and tomatoes for supper later that evening. Imelda grabs the basket that sat near the back door, grabbing it by the side handle and walking out to the plot. She doesn’t look towards the fields, knowing she’d see Héctor working out there. Something she was not ready to face yet.

When she reaches the small plot, she goes to the corn first. They had about twenty corn plants left, along with fifteen tomato plants and various herbs planted between the plants.

She struggles at first to find corn which is ready for harvest, checking for browned silk on the plant. She manages to gather about 6 pieces, slightly more than Josefina asked for but also knew she wouldn’t object to putting more corn in the soup. Imelda goes over to the tomato’s, taking note of which plants were starting to have ripened fruit. She moves past those plants, wanting green tomatoes for the recipe. Imelda kneels on the ground, getting a better look at the tomato plants.

“Hola.” She hears his voice greet from behind her. Imelda ignores him, continuing to inspect the plant. “Imelda.” He calls again. She ignores him once again, finally picking the biggest green tomato on the vine. “Lo siento por esta mañana.” 

Imelda sighs, looking over her shoulder at him. His trousers were caked in dirt, his white shirt almost red with dirt, holding his straw hat in front of him in his folded hands.

“I was waiting for you and Catalina approached me to ask if I could help her with her shopping. I only thought it was going to be a couple minutes and I’d be back to help you, but she just kept having more and more things to buy.”

“It’s fine I don’t need your help.”

“I know you don’t.” Héctor responds, kneeling next to her. Imelda refuses to look at him and places distance between them. “But even still, lo siento.”

“Stop apologizing!” Imelda barks, finally looking at him. “I don’t need your apology and your excuses.” She picks two more tomatoes from the same vine before moving onto the next vine.

“Imelda, what is it?” he inquires, staying where he is to respect her need for space at the moment. The young woman huffs, throwing her hands onto her lap in frustration and shoots a glare at the young man.

“You want to know what’s wrong? I have un músico idioita who won’t leave me alone, especially after having the audacity to use me the way you did.” She turns back to the vine, picking the last two tomatoes she needed. She grabs the basket as she stands up, resting the side of the basket on her hip.

“¿Qué?” Héctor asks, his eyes going wide in confusion and slight panic.

“¿Qué?” Imelda mocks “If you keep doing that with your eyes señor, the girls will have more reason to call you una lechuza.” 

Imelda turns on her heel, walking away from him. Her anger still bubbling in her, known that perhaps she’d regret her words later. Something that often happened with her.

“Imelda, espere!” She hears him call, running after her. She ignores him as she strides towards the house. She is pulled back slightly when a hand wraps around her wrist, she snaps her head to look at him.

“Estas loco?!” Imelda yanks her hand out of Héctor’s, looking towards the house to make sure her mamá wasn’t watching from the house. To her relief, Josefina was not. Héctor stuffs his hands in his pocket, like a small child who had touched a forbidden object. “What do you want Héctor?”

“I thought I had made it clear…” He says, not meeting her eye.

“Made what clear?”

“I want…you.” He responds, shyly looking up at her.

Imelda looks away, embarrassed at the sudden declaration and for how she acted earlier. This was something he had been pursuing since he first approached her in the plaza a few weeks ago, she knew that but to hear it so sincerely…it scared her.

“Helping you with shopping and your chores. I did those because I care for you. I’d help you with anything…I’d believe anything you said.”

“And what if I said the sky is red?” Imelda asks, crossing her arms. Héctor boldly takes a step forward, his eyes boring into her.

“Then the sky is red.”

Imelda sighs, this would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so damn charming.

“Goodnight…señor.” She turns away from him, walking towards her house. Her chest ached as she walked away, it didn’t matter how much he wanted her…or her him, she had made a promise to her mamá.

* * *

July 21, 1916.

She had managed to avoid Héctor for the past week. He had attempted to talk to her in the plaza the following Thursday, but she had ignored him. He didn’t attempt to approach her since then.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Josefina asks as the two women clean up from supper.

“I won’t enjoy myself.” Imelda shrugs. It was the night of a major music competition which took place every year, the next biggest one, second to Dia de los Muertos. Imelda was always discouraged from competing but was always told to listen and dance to the music.

“Won’t enjoy yourself.” Josefina scoffs, “You’re one of the best dancers out there and you know it. How did I end up with such a prideful daughter?”

Imelda sighs, knowing her mamá would insist she go. The young woman could be on her deathbed and Josefina would still insist if it meant the possibility of dancing with a man.

“You’re not going to wear that are you?” Josefina asks, eyeing up her daughter’s clothes. Imelda looks down at she was wearing, a plain white blouse with stains from doing work

through the day and a red skirt, one which she preferred to wear on days she did outside work.

“I really don’t need to change.”

“You’re not going into town looking like un mendigo. Go change into that dress Tía Ana bought for you in Villahermosa.”

“Mamá, don’t you think it’s a little too much?”

“No te estoy preguntando.” Josefina puts her hands-on-hips, clearly not going to budge on the issue. Imelda thinks about not moving for a moment, feeling the urge to fight in this battle of wills. Instead she does as her mamá tells her to do. She goes to her room to change and re-do her braid.

She grabs her dress from the armoire, laying it down on her bed. She did have to admit her Tía did have good taste. The skirt was black with orange and blue ribbons sewn on the bottom and flowers decorated the skirt. The blouse was white and came slightly off the shoulder, flowers decorating the collar and sleeves. The sash that accompanied it was bright orange. Imelda decides to not put on her corset for the night, if her mamá wanted her to dance she would have to be able to move.

She quickly dresses into the foreign garment, feeling slightly self-conscious of how much skin the blouse showed off. She ties the sash tightly around her waist and ops for her everyday boots. She quickly braids orange ribbons into her hair to match her attire. She looks in the mirror in her room to ensure everything was in place, a smile comes to her face. She couldn’t recall a time where she thought she looked as beautiful as she did at that moment.

Imelda exits the safety of her room and descends downs the stairs to her waiting family. The boys both wore their Sunday best, clean white shirt and black trousers, no doubt her papá would be wearing something similar.

“Oh Mija, te ves hermosa.” Josefina says as she straightens Felipe’s collar.

“Gracias.” She responds, reaching the bottom of the stairs. Imelda takes a moment to realize Josefina had not changed from her day clothes. “Mamá, aren’t you going to change?”

“Hmm? No why would I? I’m not trying to impress any young men.” Josefina shrugs, Imelda feels slight annoyance at her mother. She should’ve known there was a catch, Josefina didn’t want Imelda to dress up to look presentable it was so she could attract attention.

Josefina shoos everyone out of the house to the front to wait for Raúl to bring the horses around. To no one surprise, except Joesfina, Raúl was already waiting for them with the carriage ready to go. Oscar and Felipe sprint to the carriage, readily hopping into the back. As Imelda heads in the same direction she feels a grip on her arm. Josefina had grabbed her elbow, stopping the girl.

“Sit in the front. I don’t want mud getting on you.” Josefina insists, heading for the back of the carriage instead. Oscar hops back out of the carriage, helping Josefina into the back. Imelda steps up into the front, taking Raúl’s hand as he offered it. She sits next to her papá, sharing a smile with the older man. They pull forward, heading into the town for the evening.

They go their separate ways after Raúl parks the horses. Oscar and Felipe sprint off to play with the other young boys, who currently had sparklers in their possession. Raúl gave a kiss to Josefina’s cheek and walked away to the cantina. Josefina goes into the crowd of people surrounding the pavilion, finding her friends standing in a corner. Imelda follows close behind her mother, however stopping in the middle of the crowd to find anyone she knew.

A smile comes to her face as she sees a familiar bright pink skirt in the crowd and a small person perched on the hip of said familiar figure. Imelda moves towards the two of them, pushing past various people.

“Hola.” Imelda says as she approaches her best friend, Lucia. The other young woman turns a smile appearing on her face as she sees Imelda.

“Imelda!” Lucia greets, readjusting the small person on her hip.

“Rosita!” Imelda calls, grabbing the 9-month old’s attention. The young girl reaches her pudgy arms out to Imelda, who presses kisses to her goddaughter’s hands. Imelda takes the young girl from Lucia, swaying as if she was dancing with Rosita. “Where’s Francisco?”

“Ah, he went to the cantina. Said he’d get a headache if he had to hear Ernesto sing tonight.”

“He got on the list?” Imelda asks, brushing a curl out of Rosita’s face.

“Sì, so is Héctor.” Lucia smile widens towards Imelda, clearly suggesting something.

“So?”

“I mean, you clearly fancy him. You’ve never allowed any other man to escort you while you shop.”

“I don’t.”

“If you say so.” Lucia’s voice raises, clearly not believing her friend.

“Come on! Let’s go dancing. Drop this little one with your or my mamá.” Imelda bounced Rosita on her hip, causing a laugh to erupt from the little girl.

“I don’t think so. I’m quite tired.” Lucia excuses, taking Rosita back from Imelda.

“Like that’s ever stopped you in the past.” Imelda chuckles, thinking back to the days they did major physical labor for the majority of the afternoon and would later go dancing.

“I know, but well…I just found out that I’m actually expecting again.” Lucia admits, placing her free hand on her abdomen. Imelda stares at her friend, shocked and delighted.

“Felicidades, esa es una noticia maravillosa.”

“Gracias, it was unexpected but we’re quite thrilled about it. But Elizabeth wants me to take it easy.” Lucia responds. Imelda nods, completely agreeing with the midwife’s instructions as Lucia’s constitution while pregnant with Rosita was quite fragile. “But you go on. Rosita and I will watch from the side.”

“If you’re sure, I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Go on, I’ve been watching Catalina trying to stumble her way through most of the songs and I think she could use a lesson.” Lucia giggles, never having a fondness of the other girl. Imelda looks beyond the crowd to see Catalina dancing in one of her dresses from America. Her dancing was fine…if it were a bunch of garbachos watching her, in reality what she was doing could hardly count as dancing.

Imelda makes her way through the crowd, the music pounding in her ears as she approaches in front of the pavilion. She makes eye contact with Catalina as she approaches, causing the other woman to increase her efforts. She faces the crowd, making eye contact with Lucia in the crowd. She pinches her skirt between her thumb and her forefinger, twirling the fabric as she moves her feet to the music.

A smile comes to her face as she turns her body, twirling her skirt as she does so. Her heart pumps as she moves, always feeling excitement when dancing. Dancing and singing were the two things that were truly hers in life, it helped that she was great at both. A part of her hopes Héctor is somewhere in crowd, watching her as she dances. She kicks her feet against the pavement, twirling her skirt with more energy.

She kicks up dust as the song ends. Her chest heavy as she tries to catch her breath, looking out into the applauding crowd. She giggles quietly as she removes herself from the dancefloor back to Lucia and Rosita.

“Imelda.” She hears a male voice call out to her. Her heart leaps for a moment, did he see her? Imelda spins in the direction of the voice, a smile coming to her face as she faces him.

Her heart sinks as she sees the medium build of Diego, not Héctor. Her joyous smile disappears as she comes face-to-face with him.

“Oh…Diego…I wasn’t expecting you to be here tonight.”

“I assumed you would be…you were wonderful…as usual.”

“Gracias.” Imelda awkwardly responds, wrapping one arm around her back to play with the few strands of hair which came undone.

“Could I maybe have the next dance?” He asks with a smile. Imelda hesitates, trying think what excuse she could make. Imelda looks over his shoulder, hoping to find someone to save her. As she searches, she notices her mamá staring at the two of them a smile spreading on the older woman’s face. Josefina gives a nod to Imelda, clearly giving telling the young woman to go ahead and accept him. Imelda sighs, knowing there would be no one to come to her aid, nor could she brush him off as she normally would.

“Sí.” Imelda sighs. Diego’s smile widens at her response, she follows him to the dance floor as the next musicians take their place on the gazebo. Diego faces Imelda as they get on the dance floor, not wasting a moment to pull her close. Something which she did not appreciate. Imelda feels her eyebrow twitch as she ignores her annoyance at the young man’s forwardness.

“Te ves hermosa.” Diego says, his gaze making Imelda rather uncomfortable. Imelda wishes that the music would start already and hoped the song they chose would be short. Diego reaches forward resting his hand on her cheek, closing his eyes he leans forward.

Imelda had never felt such panic in her life, seeing this man who she hadn’t even shown a shred of interest in was trying to kiss her. She pushes herself out of his arms and in a panic grabbed her boot from her foot, hitting the young man in the face with her shoe. Imelda places her boot on with the same speed as she had taken it off, leaving the scene without another word. She makes her way through the crowd, debating if she should go to the cantina and tell her papá she would be walking home. She knew her mamá would be giving her a scolding once they got home about being a proper lady.

Imelda glances over her shoulder to be sure that Diego was not following her. Instead she sees Héctor standing on the pavilion with Ernesto, the two of them obviously preparing to play. To her dismay, Héctor looked quite handsome in this brown charro suit. He had even tried to comb his hair; it was neater than usual but still unruly. Ernesto takes the forefront of the stage while Héctor lingers behind his friend, holding his guitar close. Ernesto turns his head to Héctor, saying a few words in which the younger man just nods. Her gaze remains on Héctor as he rapidly belts out the first chords of the song.

_“Señoras y Señores_

_ Buenas tardes, buneas noches_

_ Buenas tardes, buneas noches” _

Despite the events which had just occurred Imelda makes her way through the crowd once more to the front. Much to her relief Diego was no longer standing at the front of the crowd and had retreated elsewhere. She stares at Héctor as he accompanies his friend’s singing. He doesn’t look at the crowd, his eyes remain closed as he plays. She joins in as the audience applauses at the end of the song, her gaze remaining on him. He finally opens his eyes, scanning the crowd as if he was looking for someone. His gaze stops on her, flashing her a toothy grin as he spots her. Despite trying to remain stoic, Imelda finds her mouth curving into a smile as he gives her that goofy grin. Ernesto snaps his head to Héctor obviously giving the other man shit for the delay.

Imelda recognizes the tune immediately, her favourite, La Llorona. She closes her eyes and begins to sway as she listens to Héctor’s playing, wishing that it was him singing instead of Ernesto, who had taken the emotion out of the song as he performed.

She hardly notices as the performance ends until an applause fills her ears, Imelda’s eyes snap open to see the duo being ushered off the stage. She pushes her way to the front of the crowd, cutting across the dance floor to reach the two men. Héctor’s back is turned to her as he talks to Ernesto. Imelda reaches forward, the suede soft on her fingertips as they brush his shoulder. Héctor turns at the touch, a smile appearing on his face as he sees who was standing behind him.

“Well? What do you think? Muy guapo eh?” Héctor’s grin gets wider as he pulls at his jacket, clearly showing off to the young woman. A small smile forms on Imelda’s lips, shaking her head at him. “I’m taking your silence as a yes.”

“Estas imaginando cosas.” Imelda remarks, boldly taking a step forward and straightening his silk tie. “There better.”

Imelda finally looks up at him through her eyelashes, he was gazing at her, his grin was now replaced with a small smile. An apparent forced cough interrupts the couple’s interaction. Imelda then became aware of her surroundings and her hand’s on Héctor, she quickly removes her hands. Both of them look at the figure who was standing next to them, Ernesto…she had forgotten he was with them and she had rather hoped that he would’ve found something else to preoccupy himself with. But to her dismay he hadn’t.

“Hola Isabella.” Ernesto greets her with disinterest before turning to Héctor. “Listen amigo, I told Alejandro and Francisco we’d be at the cantina by now.”

“Imelda.” Héctor simply replies. Ernesto furrows his eyebrows in confusion at his friend.

“¿Qué?” he asks.

“You called her Isabella…It’s Imelda.” Héctor corrects. Ernesto visibly sighs, turning back to Imelda. 

“Hola…Imelda.”

“Hola Edmundo.” She responds with a smile, Ernesto gives her a glare before turning back to Héctor, who was chuckling at her remark.

“Are you coming or not?” Ernesto asks impatiently. Héctor looks at Ernesto and then back to Imelda, as if he was trying to make a decision.

“I’ll come by in a bit, I want to clear my head.” Héctor excuses, his gaze remaining on Imelda. Ernesto quickly glances at the young woman and sighs.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” Ernesto claps his hand on Héctor’s shoulder before making his way to the cantina.

“Héctor…” Imelda looks down at her feet as the two are left alone. “I want to apolo-“

“Walk?”

“¿Qué?”

“Do you want to go on a walk?” Héctor elaborates, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Sí, I would” Imelda responds quickly, perhaps quicker than a lady should when agreeing to accompany a man for a walk. The couple make their way through the crowd together, Imelda watching for her family as they go together. They leave the plaza area together, walking down the nearly deserted streets of Santa Cecilia. They walk in silence as the pass a few stragglers making their way to the plaza for the remainder of the competition.

Imelda clears her throat, staring at Héctor expectedly.

“¿Qué es?” he looks rather panicked as he notices her staring. Imelda giggles in response at his nervousness.

“It’s really nothing…it’s just customary to offer your arm while you walk with the girl you’re trying to court.” Imelda states, Héctor’s smile returns offering the young woman his arm. Imelda takes it without another thought. After all, Imelda could allow for this to happen, even just for one evening.


	5. Un Poco Loco

July 21, 1916

The couple walks together arm-in-arm down the quiet street, the faint sound of music echoing through the town. Imelda’s skirt swished with every step she took; she resists the urge to lay her head on Héctor’s shoulder. 

“You two played well tonight.” Imelda finally comments on his performance for that night. “The first song you played, was that yours?” 

“Sí, Ernesto likes to sing it whenever we perform. He thinks it showcases our talent.” 

“And do you feel the same?” Imelda asks, glancing at the guitar slung on Héctor’s back for a moment before refocusing her attention to her companion. 

“Eh, not so much.” Héctor shrugs “I wrote that song when I was a kid, shortly after my mamá died. As I get older the idea that the world is my family seems quite…childish.”

“Have you written anything else besides it and your dirty bar song?”

“Loads! But Ernesto hasn’t like most of them. 

“Sounds like maybe Ernesto needs to write a couple himself before judging.” Imelda quips, causing a chuckle to emit from Héctor.

“He tries, but his songwriting isn’t so good. He needs the notes in front of him to play you know?”

“And what? The music just comes to you?”

“For the most part.” Héctor winks at the young woman as if trying to impress her “I still struggle, but I don’t need sheet music. But Ernesto wants something new soon, he’s getting tired of playing traditional.”

“I quite liked your version of _La Llorona._”

“I had hoped you’d like it.” Héctor smiles as the two approach the lakefront which sat on the edge of the town. Imelda detaches herself from Héctor as they find cover under the oak tree which sat on the bank of the lake.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, it’s your favourite isn’t it?”

“It is.” Imelda confirms, trying to think of a time she might’ve sung it around him.

“You hum it when you shop or when you do your chores around the yard.” Héctor says as if he was reading her mind. Imelda stares at him, impressed that he even took notice that she hummed. “I’d love to hear you sing it.”

“Perhaps you will, one day.” Imelda shrugs.

“Why not right now.” Héctor brings his guitar to his front, beginning to pluck the notes of _La Llorona _loudly. He stares at her, waiting for her to join him.

“I’d rather hear something you’ve written.” Imelda leans against the trunk of the oak tree, the bark rough on her bare shoulders. Héctor ceases his playing, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I’ve got one thing I have been working on.” Héctor’s fingers linger over the string, he looks up at her “You need to tell me what you think. No being mean just because you can.” 

“Bueno no lo hare.” Imelda raises her hands in the air as if she was surrendering. He gives her a lopsided grin before looking down at his guitar.

He begins to pluck the first few notes, Imelda can’t help but smile at the plucky tune that he had written himself. 

_“What color is the sky?_ _  
¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!  
You tell me that it's red  
¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!_

_Where should I put my shoes?_

_¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!_

_You say put them on your head_

_¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!” _

Imelda’s breath leaves her as he sings, he had written a song about her. Imelda moves away from the tree, taking a few steps towards him.

_“You make me un poco loco _

_ Un poquititito loco” _

A laugh erupts from Imelda finally, a wide smile coming to her lips. She finds a steady rhythm to move her feet to, her skirt twirling around her as she moved. 

_“The way you keep me guessing _

_ I’m nodding and I’m yessing _

_ I’ll count it as a blessing _

_ That I’m only un Poco Loco.” _

Héctor’s smile widens at her response, clumsily matching his steps with hers. He boldly steps towards Imelda, leaning in closer to her. 

_“The loco that you make me _

_ It is just un poco crazy_

_ The sense that you’re not making _

_ The liberties you’re taking _

_ Leaves my cabeza shaking _

_ You are just _

_ Un poco loco!” _

Another loud laugh comes from Imelda, Héctor joining in with several loud gritos as the song comes to an end. Imelda’s chest heaves as the music stops, between the dancing and the laughing it was difficult for her to get her breath back.

“¿entonces? ¿Qué piensas?” Héctor finally asks his breath heavy as well. 

“It’s about me...” Imelda states rather flattered at the young man’s gesture. Many men for the past year had tried to unsuccessfully woo her, mostly reciting their badly written poetry to her…but no one had never written her a song.

“It is.”

“¿Por qué?” Imelda asks her smile disappearing as she raises an eyebrow. Not being able to help if there was an ulterior motive in this gesture.

“Well…because I wanted to.” Héctor shrugs his shoulders. Imelda’s smile returns as he responds, no flowery words or clichés about her beauty or charm. She gasps slightly noticing how close the two of them were, their chests nearly touching.

“Have you performed it for anyone?” She asks in a near whisper, boldly moving closer nearly closing the gap between the two of them.

“Just you.” Héctor responds, a blush slightly forming on his cheeks, no doubt realizing the same thing. He doesn’t reciprocate her bold action, remaining still. “B-besides…I don’t think Ernesto would like it.”

Imelda’s heart drops into her stomach, she wasn’t expecting that. Imelda clears her throat, realizing how ridiculous she was being.

She was kidding herself if she thought she’d actually have a future with Héctor. He would go off somewhere with Ernesto to follow their dream and she would stay in Santa Cecilia, probably marry some bore, have his children, never leaving Santa Cecilia.

“We should head back.” Imelda states, stepping away from the young man. Héctor stares at her, confusion passing over his face as he processes her words.

“O-okay.” He nods, clutching his guitar strap to his chest. Imelda turns from him, briskly walking away from the clearing. As she walks, she hears him walking behind her, she decides not to slow down deciding it was best that they didn’t walk together.

She comes to a stop when they reach the plaza, turning to see if Héctor was still behind her. He was. He stalks towards her, a nervous smile appearing on his face.

“Gracias, disfruté esta noche.” Imelda finally says. 

“Yo también lo hice.” Héctor responds, shoving his hands into his pockets and slightly rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Imelda, if you’d allow me. I would like to accompany you with your shopping on Tuesday.”

Imelda opens her mouth to respond, unsure what she thought of the young man’s request. The two-break eye contact with one another as a shout echoes across the plaza. Panic instills in Imelda as she sees Josefina marching towards the pair, clearly on the warpath.

“I-I’ll see you on Tuesday Héctor.” Imelda says, reluctantly tearing herself away from him. She meets her mother halfway, trying her hardest not to sink away from this confrontation. “Mamá, I was just coming to find you. I was trying to find Oscar and Felipe.”

“They’re with your papá. Come, we’re going home.” Josefina says, grabbing Imelda by the elbow and leading the young woman away from the plaza.

* * *

Imelda sits with her father in silence as the family made their way back to the farm. The young woman bites the inside of her lip as the approach the house. Her nerves taking over as she pondered what her mamá was going to lecture her on this time. Oscar and Felipe spring into the house as the horses come to a stop, Felipe trailing behind his twin. Imelda and Josefina walk into the house together in silence.

“Both of you wash up and then off to bed. Your papá needs you up early tomorrow.” Josefina yells up the stairs after the boys. She looks pointedly at Imelda “In the salon, now.”

Imelda does as her mother says and makes her way into the sitting room. She sits on a chair, smoothing her skirt as she does so. Josefina follows after her, standing in the doorway.

“Are we waiting for papá?” Imelda asks a smirk appearing on her face, it was customary for Raúl to be present for the lectures.

“¿Que estabas pensando?” Josefina snaps at the young woman. The smirk disappears from Imelda’s face, realizing how serious her mamá was. “Diego Arango López was our last hope as a respectable suitor for you.”

“What about Joaquín Pérez Murillo? He made it very clear he’s been trying to court me for the last year.”

“Joaquín Pérez Murillo? He’s been in Morelia for the last four months.”

“¿él tiene?” 

“Sí.” Josefina huffs and pinches the bridge her nose as if she was getting a headache. “He’s now engaged to some girl there. On Tuesday you will go to Arango’s stand and apologize to Diego for hitting him. Honestly mija, I thought we were passed that.”

“He crossed a line last night and I acted.”

“It’s not your place to act when a man makes an attempt to court you.”

“I don’t need a suitor or to be married.” Imelda sighs frustrated that this conversation was occurring again. 

“And what will happen to you when your papá and I pass? You’re willing to become an old spinster because of your stubbornness.”

“I’ll have Oscar and Felipe; they’ll need someone to look after them.”

“Your hermanos will have their own families to look after. They don’t need to look after you too because of your childish behaviour.” 

“I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“It’s not only that.” Josefina finally sits on the couch across from Imelda. “I’ve heard some…unsavoury rumours about the company you keep.”

“Like who?”

“Teresa told me about Héctor accompanying you as you shop, holding your basket and even walking you home.”

“He’s only being friendly, there is nothing romantic between the two of us.” Imelda scoffs.

“Es major que no me mientas.” Josefina says in almost as whisper.

“Lo promento.” Imelda hesitantly responds, knowing she was lying to her mamá. Josefina’s eyes don’t leave Imelda, her expression unreadable. The older woman finally nods, seemingly to believe Imelda.

“Alright. He is not to accompany you in the plaza or escort you home anymore ¿Entender?”

“S-sí mamá.”

“Good. Now off to bed with you.” Josefina relaxes in her seat, waving her daughter off.

The younger woman leaves the room without another word. She silently makes her way to her room. She shuts the door behind her as she enters in her bedroom. She sits at her small wooden vanity, unpinning her hair and removing the ribbons from her hair. A small smile appears on her face as she begins to hum her song…. their song.

………….

July 25, 1916

Imelda sits at the breakfast table, dreading what was to come of her visit to the market. Josefina was clear in her instruction; Imelda was to find Diego, apologize to him and if he should ask, allow him to accompany her through the day. Imelda begins to gather the dishes from the table, hoping to put off her shopping.

“Don’t worry yourself over that Mija, I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sí, it’s time for you to get down to the plaza anyhow.” Josefina stands from the table, collecting the dishes.

Josefina disappears into the kitchen; Imelda follows close behind to gather her shopping basket.

“Home by noon?” Imelda questions, certain her mamá’s leash on her would become tighter than it already was. The young woman grabs the shopping basket from the kitchen counter.

“No, it’s fine, take your time. Just be home in time to prepare supper.” Josefina responds, not turning away from washing the dishes. Imelda sighs, knowing her mamá was giving her more time in order to spend it with Diego. The young woman leaves without another word.

She decides to go to the Arango stand first, deciding to get this over with. She walks across the plaza, noticing Héctor and Ernesto were playing together at the pavilion. The young man grins at her and gives a small wave to her. Imelda reciprocates with a small smile, but not the wave. She swallows her pride as she approaches the stand. She approaches Diego, who was currently helping an older woman. She keeps a small distance behind the older woman, not wanting to get to close. Diego’s eyes go wide in response to seeing her.

“I-Imelda!” He says, cutting off his interaction with his customer. “G-give me one moment. I want to talk to you.” He turns back to the older woman before walking away to grab her produce. Imelda feels someone bump into her shoulder; she shifts to move out of the way, Knowing she couldn’t afford another outburst.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns, frustration rising in her as she does. 

“What do you want?” Imelda quietly snaps, trying not to make a scene.

“Dios, I can’t even get a hello?” the man asks, crossing his arms across his chest. Imelda’s glare doesn’t ease up as he tries to make himself bigger.

“¿Qué demomios quieres Ernesto?” Imelda repeats, not in the mood for any pleasantries.

“Is that any way for a lady to talk to someone as guapo as me?” Ernest asks.

“If you keep talking to me in this manner you won’t be so guapo anymore gilipollas.”

“You know I don’t have to be nice to you. I’m doing this as a favour to Héctor.” Ernesto retorts, shoving his finger at his face.

“Then leave.” Imelda turns from him, fairly certain her braid hit him in the face. She hears him grumble behind her. She feels him poke her in the shoulder, which she looks over at him. “I thought you were leaving.”

It was funny to see Ernesto this way, the normally seeming charming and friendly man was now replaced with a red in the face and fuming male.

“Escuchame puta!” He spits, obviously trying to get a reaction from her. Imelda doesn’t, she’d been called a lot worse. “I don’t have to tell you anything.

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because for some unknown reason my estúpido amigo is infatuated with you and I’m trying to help him.” Ernesto responds. Imelda turns back to the young man, looking past him to see Héctor was no longer there.

“Where is he?” Imelda asks, finally understanding why the idiot in front of her was trying to talk to her.

“Somewhere by the lake.” Ernesto shrugs. Imelda shoves past the man towards the lake. 

“Imelda.” Diego’s voice fills her ears, she turns to see him. His dark brown hair was neatly combed back from his round face, he was the opposite of Héctor, who could never get his wiry hair under control. 

“I have to go, I just realized I forgot to bring my money.” Imelda excuses herself.

“Wait, Imelda!” Diego grabs her wrist as she tries to walk away from him. “Just listen to me for once! I can forgive you for what you did last night, I just want you for myself.”

Imelda wretches her arm out of his grasp, a sharp pain shooting through her wrist as she does so. She takes one step closer Diego, her glare intensifying on the young man.

“I’m not apologizing.” She enunciates before leaving him standing alone. Imelda marches down the streets of Santa Cecilia towards the lake.

She sees Héctor standing alone under the oak tree. His hands shoved in his pocket as he kicks his foot against the ground.

She chuckles seeing his unruly hair sticking out through his worn straw hat.

Imelda approaches the young man, clearing her throat to announce her arrival. Héctor looks up from the ground, a grin appearing on his face as he sees her. Héctor takes his hat off as Imelda approaches him.

“I thought you were going to accompany me today.” Imelda asks, crossing her arms. She wasn’t particularly mad the young man.

“I was going to but well…Ernesto insisted we play in the plaza instead.”

“And you agreed?” Imelda asks, skeptical of his answer based on his posture; he tended to grimace whenever he lied to her. “I don’t like liars Héctor.”

“Okay, Okay. That…” Héctor trails off “was a lie and I apologize for that.”

“Why didn’t you show up?”

“Well, your mamá seemed cross with you last night after she found you with me.”

“Among other things.” Imelda shrugs, breaking eye contact with him.

“It wasn’t just that. María told me about some of the rumours about us.” Héctor rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Héctor-” 

“And I don’t want to put you in that position. You deserve to be with a man that can support you who has a respectable family. I know that I can’t-”

“No me importa!” Imelda interrupts him, making eye contact with him. Héctor returns her gaze. Imelda boldly takes a step forward, taking his hands into her own. “Do you?”

He envelops her in his arms. Imelda is shocked at the gesture; she raises her arms as an automatic response to push him away. She freezes before she can, finding herself resting her hands on Héctor’s back. She had to admit, she liked the way he smelled and being in his arms felt good. She was disappointed when he pulled away from her.

“So, are you going to help me shop?” Imelda asks. Héctor nods in response. Imelda nearly knocks the wind out of him as she shoves her shopping basket into his arms. “Come on, I don’t have all day to wait for you musico.”

Imelda begins walking away from him towards the plaza. She doesn’t turn when she hears him running to catch up to her. Héctor leans over to her as they walk.

“I wouldn’t dare to make you wait.” He quips. A smirk crosses her face in response as the young man chuckles at his own joke.

The two young adults resist the temptation to hold each other’s hands as they walk together.


	6. Mi corazón se salta un latido

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Sexual Harassment

August 28, 1916 

  
Josefina and Imelda had spent the entire day in the kitchen cooking for supper. It was the first day of harvest on the Herrera farm. Raúl hired four extra men as labourers to lessen the workload. It was a time which stressed Josefina out to almost madness, constantly cooking for multiple men took its toll on the older woman and Imelda was often roped into helping.  
Héctor and her had become closer throughout the summer. The two of them shopped together through the weekdays and Imelda found herself creating more excuses to go into town to spend more time with him or watch him play in the plaza. Imelda had even been joining the men in the fields for lunch, even to see him for 30 minutes.   
She begins to grind her teeth, though things had remained unchanged over the summer…that was the issue. He had yet to kiss her. She knew he was young and experience with women was limited, but it was getting ridiculous. Imelda knew girls who had been courted and engaged in less time. She had given him plenty of chances and yet nothing.   
“Mija, at this rate you’re going to use too many husks.” Josefina says, breaking Imelda’s trance. The young woman looks down at the bowl, noticing her mamá was right; she had ripped the corn husk she was currently spreading the mixture on. “Where is your mind today?”   
  
“I’m not sure mamá.” Imelda shrugs, placing the first few finished corn husks to the side. Josefina turns from the counter, placing a hand on her hip. She stares at her daughter with a softness, a sad smile forming on her face. The older woman approaches her, lifting the younger woman’s chin up. 

“I know things didn’t work out with the Arango boy, but we’ll find someone for you Mija.” Josefina pulls away from Imelda, going back to the chicken she was currently frying on the stove. Josefina had learned about Imelda’s refusal to apologize to Diego after the incident.   
Her mamá was surprisingly willing to let the incident go, as long as Imelda didn’t dismiss the next suitor who would come along. Imelda didn’t put up a fight about this new rule, knowing she could find ways around Josefina’s watchful eye for a husband for her. The discussion about Héctor hadn’t come up again, Josefina assumed her daughter listened to her and Imelda was much more careful of how she presented herself in public.   
She often went to the plaza earlier in the day to shop, Héctor still accompanied her occasionally and escorted her home every day. Imelda increasingly found reasons to make her way into town on Saturdays, often watching him play in the plaza and spending time together on the lakefront. 

Imelda makes her way to the stove, lifting the lid on the pot which was currently cooking the chicken in the chili paste for her tamales. She gives them a stir, making sure the sauce covered the chicken evenly.   
“Those should be ready soon.” Josefina says, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her daughter, pouring in chili sauce in with the chicken which was currently browning on the stove as well. 

“I put the epazote next to you.” Imelda states, noticing her mamá was searching for the herb. 

“Gracias Mija.” Josefina grabs the herb and places it into the pot, she stirs the herb into the chili paste, then leaves it be. “Have you finished with the Uchepos?” 

“I finished them earlier. The tamales are the last thing I have to do.” 

“Once you finish up with those can you help me with the enchiladas?” Josefina asks, Imelda nods in response as she readies a plate. She places the plate by the stove, removing the chicken from the pot, spooning the chili mixture over the poultry. Imelda takes the pot off the stove and grabs the chicken to take back to the table. She begins to shred the chicken with two forks. 

“Don’t overstuff the tamales, make them smaller.” Josefina says. Imelda nods as she sets the shredded chicken to the side, grabbing the corn husks. She spackles the masa onto the husk and places a small amount of chicken in the middle of the dough. 

She folds the husk around the filling, tying it securely with a small strand of husk she had prepared earlier before putting the first tamale into the tall pot on the table. She repeats this process nearly 30 times, placing each tamale into the pot. Imelda stands to grab the pot and places it on the stove. 

“Mija would you take over for me? My knee is starting to cause me pain.” Josefina wipes her hands of the chili sauce on her apron. Imelda takes her mother’s spot, grabbing a tortilla and dunking it into the chili sauce in front of her. She quickly drops the tortilla on the pan her mamá had readied already. She repeats it with 5 other tortillas, swearing quietly to herself as the oil spits at her. She pushes the pot with the tamales off to the side of the griddle, making room for the large pan. She haphazardly flips the slightly reddened tortillas, getting increasingly frustrated at the ones which stick together. She sprinkles in a handful of the cheese and onion filling Josefina had readied that afternoon on the tortillas before folding them in half. She lifts the tortillas from the pan and places them onto the clay serving platter next to her. She repeats the same motions with another ten tortillas, evenly distributing them on the platter. Imelda sprinkles the fresco over each tortilla, topping the dish with the crema, cabbage, and some cilantro. 

“How is it going Mija?” Josefina walks into the kitchen, now using her cane to walk around. 

“I just finished.” Imelda picks up the dish, showing her mamá. 

“Looks wonderful. How are the tamales?” Josefina asks, sitting down at the kitchen table. 

“Good, they are cooking.” Imelda turns back to the stove, grabbing the pot with the sides of her apron to prevent her hands from burning. She brings it forward before lifting the lid up to check on the tamales. The young woman jerks back as a plume of steam rises from it. She hears the strained groans of her mamá behind her, obviously trying to rise out of the chair. 

“What are you doing?” Imelda asks as she turns, her hand resting on her hip. 

“I was going to grab your Abuelita’s platter for the tamales.” 

“Sit down, I’ll grab it.” Imelda insists, walking to the cupboards to grab her late   
Abuelita’s serving platter; which was covered in finely painted flowers. She places the platter next to the stove, preparing for when the tamales were ready. 

“I’m going to go get Oscar and your papá to move the table to the courtyard.” Josefina insists as she walks out of the kitchen into the backyard. As she descends into the fields, Imelda notices her mamá crossing paths with a scrawny figure. Imelda’s gaze remains on her mamá and Héctor, who was nodding in response to whatever Josefina was saying. Imelda feels butterflies in her stomach as she sees Héctor walk away from her mother to the house. As he approaches the door, she quickly begins gathering dirty dishes, trying to appear busy. She tries to ignore his presence in the doorway as he takes off his shoes but finds herself watching him from the corner of her eye. 

“Your mamá seems to be slowly accepting me.” He finally says as he fully enters the kitchen. Imelda smiles in response, wiping her wet hands on her apron. 

“I think like me, she’s realizing there is no getting rid of you.” At this curt response, Héctor’s laughter fills the kitchen. Imelda smile widens as she tucks a stray hair behind her ear. 

“What are you doing in here?” Imelda asks as his laughter dies down. 

“Or maybe you two have gotten accustomed to having my guapo face around.” Héctor waggles his eyebrows at her as he crosses his arms and leans against the kitchen wall. 

“Sigue soñanda Rivera.” Imelda tosses a damp rag at the young man, which hits him in the face. 

“That wasn’t very ladylike Señorita.” Héctor avows, smirking at the young woman. 

“When have you ever known me to act like a lady?” Imelda questions, stepping forward to grab the rag from him. Héctor dramatically places his hand on his chest, looking shocked at Imelda.   
“I thought all women were dispositioned to behave themselves and act properly at all times. I request I be let out of this courting agreement.” 

Imelda lightly punches Héctor in the shoulder in response, “Cállate!” Before she can pull away from him, Héctor captures both of her wrists in his hold.   
“Héctor!” Imelda shrieks, her giggling echoing through the kitchen. With much difficulty, due to Imelda’s attempts to free herself, Héctor manages to capture both of Imelda’s wrists in his one hand, while his free hand pulled her closer. Imelda shifts uncomfortably as Héctor attempts to tickle her side, with no result. He raises an eyebrow at her, confused why he wasn’t getting a response from the young woman. 

“Are you not ticklish?” Héctor asks, Imelda shakes her head in triumph as she frees her hands from his grasp. She pounces at the opportunity, her hands going to Héctor’s sides; emitting a loud yelp from the young man. Without much struggles Héctor captures her wrists again, putting her revenge to a stop. 

As the young couple’s laughter dies down, Imelda stares at him through her lashes becoming aware of how close they were standing. Héctor's grip on her wrists ceases, going to hold her hands instead. Imelda increasingly finds it difficult to breathe, which was unrelated to her corset.

“Héctor…” She whispers, her eyes closing and presses her body to his, feeling his laboured breath against her chest. She tilts her head up, expecting him to kiss her. 

“I-I really like your kitchen.” He stutters instead. Imelda’s eyed fly open and furrows in brow in confusion. 

“Perdóneme?” 

“I-I like your kitchen. Have I ever told you that?”   
He.Had.Got.To.Be.Kidding. Imelda pulls away from him, knowing the moment was lost. 

“No. You haven’t.” Imelda responds curtly.

“Well, I do it’s um…big?” Héctor rubs the back on his neck nervously. Imelda hums in response, going back to washing the dishes. Imelda takes her frustration out on the dishes as Héctor prattles on, not that Imelda listened to him. She finally looks up as she hears the stomping of boots on the veranda. She smiles as Oscar and Felipe come barrelling through the kitchen door. 

“Mamá knows your helping?” Imelda asks Felipe as he comes to a stop. 

“Yup she does.” Felipe nods in response, trailing after Oscar into the dining room with a slight limp. Imelda watches him carefully as he and Oscar maneuver around the table, his back was bothering him. 

“Héctor can you help them?” Imelda asks, acknowledging his presence again. Héctor nods, placing his water glass down on the counter as he makes his way into the dining room. 

“Alright, chamacos where are we putting this?” Imelda overhears him ask the boys, both of them respond at the same time. She can’t help but smile when she hears him scold the twins over how they lifted the table. “With your knees Mijos, not your back.” 

“Is the Rivera boy helping?” Josefina’s voice comes from the kitchen doorway, Imelda turns to see her mother moving towards the kitchen chair. 

“He is. I thought you were getting papá to help?” Imelda asks. 

“I did, but Felipe insisted he could do it just with him and Oscar.” 

“And you agreed to it?” 

“I knew Héctor was in the house.” Josefina shrugged, “Why shouldn’t we allow him to do the same things as Oscar. He’s a normal boy.” 

“Mamá…” Imelda trails off, knowing Josefina hated to acknowledge Felipe’s condition. 

“He is.” Josefina insists. Imelda bites her lip as she nods her head, deciding to leave the topic alone. “What were you and Héctor discussing?” 

“Nothing much…he mostly talked about his future trips with Ernesto in the fall.” Imelda lies while scrubbing a pot. 

“I don’t appreciate how familiar he is with you.” 

“Héctor’s familiar with everyone.” 

“I’m aware. If his mother had raised him with any sort of respect, he would know how to present himself in front of young women.” 

A loud throat-clearing echoes through the kitchen, causing Imelda to look over her shoulder to see the very same young man standing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. Imelda turns back to the dishes, a sense of shame and guilt washing over her as Héctor asks:   
“Disculpa doña, I was wondering how many chairs you would like the boys and me to take out.”   
“Oh…well” Josefina ponders, Imelda can tell in her mamá voice she was flustered. “Perhaps eleven to start. Gracias Héctor.” 

Imelda hears Héctor walk into the dining room, giving the twins instructions on how to set up the table in the back. 

“He’s a good worker.” Imelda says without much thought.   
“He’s a musician.” 

“So?” 

“All musicians are layabouts Imelda. He’ll make no money and die in a gutter somewhere in Guadalajara.” The young woman remains quiet in response to her mother, not wanting to acknowledge her harsh words. “How long have the tamales been cooking?”  
  
“About 20 minutes now.” 

“I’ll take over from here, you go get ready for dinner.” 

“Mamá, I really don’t need to dress up for dinner. No one important will be here.” 

“Lo sé, but I would still like to see you looking nice for dinner.” Josefina grabs Imelda by the shoulders, taking in what the young woman wore. “How did you get chili sauce on your blouse Mija? Go change, you don’t have to wear anything formal just something clean.” 

“Okay.” Imelda agrees, looking down at the state of her clothing. Her mamá was right the front of her blouse was splattered with chili sauce, and her skirt was dusted with masa flour. Imelda removes her apron, hanging it up before going upstairs to her room. She closes the door behind her, immediately stripping down into her undergarments. 

Imelda changes into a long blouse with embroidered red flowers around the neck and a plain red skirt. She sighs, knowing it was too hot to wear her boots, opting for her huaraches instead. She sits at her vanity, laughing to herself as she sees flour smeared across her cheek. She grabs her face cloth from the basin sitting at the side of her vanity, wiping the flour off with cold water. Imelda removes the ribbon, which was holding her braid in place, allowing her hair to fall forward, curling around her face. Imelda stands from the wooden stool, smoothing her skirt as she stands and straightening her blouse. She looks in her mirror once more, making sure she looked presentable for her mamá.   
She leaves her room to return to the kitchen, as she moves down the stairs, she hears a commotion in the dining room. Imelda makes her way to the dining room, moving past the front door to the nearly empty dining room.   
  
“What are you idiots doing?” Imelda asks as she bursts into the dining room. She places her hands on her hips as she sees Oscar in a headlock by Héctor while Felipe clutched himself to the older man’s leg. 

“He’s got candy.” Felipe simply says as he detaches himself from Héctor’s leg, who had let go of his hold on Oscar. The three boys all stand in a line, looking like scolded children. 

“Get back to work before I come in here and beat all of you with my boot.” Imelda threatens as she pushes her way past the boys into the kitchen. She hears grumbling from all three of them as they begin to relocate the chairs to the courtyard. 

“Ah there you are!” Josefina exclaims as she removes the tamales from the pot onto the serving platter next to the stove. “I’ve set the table for dinner; would you take the enchiladas out to the table for now.” 

“Of course.” Imelda grabs the platter of the enchiladas which sat on the corner of the griddle, to help keep the dishes warm. Imelda makes her way through the dining room out to the courtyard at the front of the house. She approaches the table, which was surrounded by men; her father sitting at the head of the table. Imelda places the enchiladas in front of her papá, knowing they were his favourite. Josefina and Imelda filter in and out of the house bringing the various dishes out to the table to feed the group of 9 outside. The last dish to be brought to the table is the frijoles cone carne de Puerco, which was placed in front of Héctor. 

“Alright let’s eat!” Raúl exclaims as Imelda sits to his right, she can tell he had been drinking already. Imelda scrutinizes Héctor, who sat beside her, noticing he too had been partaking.

“Ah-Ah-Ah! Not before grace!” Josefina scolds as she sits at the opposite end of the table. “Raúl lead us.” 

The older man huffs in frustration, glaring at his wife. Everyone around the table bends their heads in prayer as Raúl begins. 

Imelda folds her hands on her lap. She startles out of her prayer when she feels something warm slip between her hands. Imelda opens her eyes, looking at her hands to see another, larger hand had grabbed hers. She looks beside her, towards Héctor, who was staring at her. The two-sit staring at each other while the prayer continued, though at an inopportune time Imelda allows herself to smile at her suitor. 

As the prayer ends Imelda breaks their gaze, looking around the table to make sure no one had seen them. Héctor slips his hand out of hers as everyone looks up. Everyone begins to serve themselves for dinner, once he is done with the serving spoon Héctor turns the utensil to Imelda; their fingers brushing as she accepts it. Imelda finds her cheeks becoming hot as Héctor smiles at her. As Imelda serves herself a small amount of frijoles cone carne before Héctor passes it along to one of the other farmhands. Imelda looks to her father, who was filling two glasses of tequila. Raúl smiles at his daughter before placing the other glass of tequila in front of her, he nods at her as if saying it was okay to drink. 

“I don’t think mamá would like me drinking.” Imelda says quietly to him, even though Josefina was out of earshot. 

“Your mamá doesn’t have to know.” Raúl chuckles, clinking his glass with hers before taking a sip. Imelda follows her father’s lead and takes a drink from the small glass, scrunching her nose in response to the burning sensation travelling down her throat. The men surrounding her laugh in response when a small cough bursts from Imelda after getting the liquid down. 

The night carries on in a blur, Imelda swept up in the conversation between her father and Mateo about the upcoming election, the first time the president would be elected by the public. Imelda helps clear the dishes once dinner was finished, leaving them piled up in the kitchen for them to deal with in the morning.

Once supper was over, three of the new farmhands left the party, wanting to get back into town before it got too late in the evening. Mateo and Arturo had decided they would stay in the barn overnight, convincing Héctor that he had to stay to play music for them. 

Josefina and the boys had migrated from the other end of the table to engage in conversation. Josefina had even started to partake in drinking tequila, although at a much slower rate than the men. 

Imelda smiles as Héctor begins to play a familiar tune, humming softly along with the notes. Raúl stands abruptly stands from the table, moving towards his wife. Josefina shakes her head with a smile as he offers his hand to her. The older woman finally relents standing from the table with the help of her husband, who takes her into his arms and the two begin to dance. Héctor’s begins to play louder for the couple as everyone’s chatting quietens. Imelda notices Héctor staring at her, giving her a nod of reassurance. She smiles in response, taking a breath before singing. 

Y aunque la vida me cueste, llorona  
No dejaré de quererte  
No dejaré de quererte

Héctor beams at her as she sings, both of them realizing that she had never sung La Llorona in front of him before.   
  
Mi subí al pino más alto, Llorona   
A ver si te divisaba   
Mi subí al pino más alto, Llorona   
A ver si- 

Imelda stops singing as she sees silhouettes approaching the house, everyone stops the festivities as the men come into the light. The enjoyment of the group noticeably drops as the men come to a stop, their khaki uniforms causing anxiety among everyone. 

“No no, that was beautiful, please continue.” One of the men urges. Imelda looks at Josefina who beckons the younger woman to her. Imelda stands from the table, walking behind Héctor and around the table, avoiding the soldiers. 

Imelda comes to stand with Josefina, who grabs her daughter’s forearm to bring her close.   
“I regret to say my daughter has exhausted her voice.” Raúl excuses “However, you’d be very welcome to stay. We have lots of food and lots of tequila.” 

The leader turns to his subordinates nodding in approval. The three men sit down where Raúl, Imelda and Mateo once sat; making themselves comfortable. Héctor stands from his seat, instead opting for a seat at the other end of the table near the twins. 

Imelda stares at the three men, trying to hide her disdain. The leader was a short, heavy man with facial hair, his hair slicked with grease and sweat. The two men with him were younger, one younger than Imelda and the other one may be the same age as Ernesto. The leader looks across the table at the three young men as Raúl pour each of them a drink. 

“You look like you have some strong boys down there.” He finally speaks, downing the tequila. 

“Ah, I’m afraid not.” Raúl shakes his head, refilling the officer’s glass. 

“What do you mean? I’m sure these fine young boys would love to fight against the revolution.” 

“I’m sure they would too but you see Felipe; my younger son has a bad.” 

“And the other?” 

“Oscar? He was kicked in the head by a burro when he was a child.” 

“There seem to be many accidents occurring to your children.” The officer raises an eyebrow at Raúl. 

“It is a farm after all. It tends to have hazards, especially with children.” 

“What about the musician?” Imelda’s heart stops at this question. “You gonna tell me he fell down a well?” 

“No…” Raúl trails off, “He has flat feet.” 

“Mija.” Josefina says quietly, lightly pushing her towards the door. The two women slowly make their way to the door, hoping not to be noticed. 

“No. Not you.” One of the soldier’s snaps at Raúl. Both Josefina and Imelda look over their shoulders at the commotion to see Raúl re-pouring drinks for the soldiers. The young man looks straight at Imelda “Her.” 

Raúl looks at Imelda, fear flashing across his face. They all knew what these soldiers did to young women. 

“You don’t want her to…she’s an arpía, a very disagreeable young woman.” 

“Are you going to keep making excuses for everyone here?” The young soldier barks, still insisting. Raúl nods in response, beckoning for Imelda. She reluctantly walks away from her mother, meeting her father halfway. She meets his gaze as he hands her the bottle of tequila his eyes begging her not to do this. 

Imelda tries to convey it would be ok, but she wasn’t sure it was going to be. She slowly approaches the soldiers, first pouring a drink for the officer, then the boy, finally to the young man. She pours him a drink, not making eye contact with him. She turns to walk away, relieved that was it. 

As she takes a step forward, she feels two hands on her hips, pulling her backwards. Her stomach twists in knots as the young soldiers pulls her onto his lap. Imelda grits her teeth as the manhandles her, brushing all of her hair to her shoulder. His hand squeezes Imelda’s thigh, inhaling as he pulls her close. 

“You won’t be very disagreeable to me. Will you?” He asks. Imelda physically stops herself from recoiling at his comment and his hands on her, which were wandering, pulling her skirt up over her knee. Imelda looks away off into the field, trying to take her mind off of what was occurring and her humiliation. 

“That’s enough!” An assertive voice, which wasn’t her father’s echoes through the courtyard. Imelda looks to the source to see Héctor standing at the other end of the table, his fists balled at his sides. 

“Héctor…” Imelda whispers, pleading with him not to do this. 

“What was that boy?” The soldier asks. 

“This family has been nothing short of generous to you. They’ve shared their food and liquor with you. The least you can do is leave her alone.” Héctor explains, his confidence only slightly wavering. Imelda fells the man’s hands on her hips again, removing her from his lap. The soldier marches over to Héctor, who stood slightly taller than the soldier. The two stares at one another for a moment, before the solider reaches for his sidearm. Imelda shouts, launching herself forward to the men. She grabs the solider by the arm, unsure of what she was trying to accomplish. The soldier strikes her with the back of his hand, her cheek throbbing with pain as she is thrown back. 

The soldier grabs his gun, but no shot it fired instead, he strikes Héctor in the head with his sidearm; sending the young man to the ground. 

Without much thought Imelda flies to Héctor’s side to check on him, his temple was bleeding badly. 

“Idiota.” She whispers at him, despite the pain he must’ve been in Héctor grins at her. 

“How about we all sit down? Here I’ll get you another drink.” Raúl urges, stepping towards the scene. He leads the already drunk soldier away from the couple as Josefina kneels next to Héctor, inspecting his wound. 

“It’ll need to be cleaned, but it shouldn’t need medical care.” Josefina states, lifting his hair which was matted with blood. “Go inside, wash it and both of you stay out of sight until your papá and I deal with this.” 

Imelda nods in agreement as the two women help him up. Josefina helps Imelda walk the dazed Héctor back into the house. They go straight through to the sitting room, placing him on the sofa. Josefina leaves into the kitchen, returning with a basin with warm water and a clean cloth. She leaves the couple alone, returning to the courtyard. Imelda kneels on the ground next to the basin, dipping the cloth in the water. 

“This will hurt.” She finally says, pressing the cloth to his forehead. Héctor hisses in pain as the cloth connects with the wound. Imelda pulls the cloth away from his head, dipping it in the water again; tinting the liquid pink as she rung out the excess. She presses the cloth against his head again, emitting another hiss from him. 

“T-thanks for doing this.” Héctor finally says, Imelda finally looks at him. 

“Que estabas pensando.” She responds in a whisper, frustration and concern coursing through her body. Héctor looks at her through his lashes, wincing away from the increased pressure she was putting on the cloth. 

“Lo siento…I just saw how he held you and your face Imelda…I just couldn’t let him touch you like that.” 

“He could’ve killed you Héctor. What would’ve happened then?” Imelda asks, her anger evident in her voice. He looks at the floor, not wanting to think about what would’ve happened afterwards. 

“I was just…scared for you ‘Melda.” He responds. Imelda removes the cloth from Héctor’s forehead, resting it on the lip of the basin. She ducks her head to meet his gaze, her anger dissipating as she meets his eyes. She clears her throat, finding it quite difficult to admit what was coming to her mind. 

“I was scared too…” Imelda sighs “I was worried what they’d do to Oscar and Felipe, to me…when I saw that…cabrón reach for his weapon, I have never been so scared in my life.” Imelda startles as Héctor slips his hands into hers.

“Are you ok?” Héctor asks, touching his hand to the cheek that the soldier struck. Imelda nods, leaning her head into his hand. She rests her own hand on top of his, which still rested on her cheek. 

Imelda finds herself leaning closer to him as his hands touch her, her heart fluttering as his thumb brushes her cheekbone. She places her free hand on Héctor’s knee, squeezing it in response. He gives her a sweet smile at her action, removing his hand from her cheek; making Imelda’s heart drop. 

“Imelda…” Héctor croaks. In a moment of confidence, Imelda leans forward and presses her lips to his in a chaste kiss. She pulls away, her stomach in knots as she does so, worried over what he would think of her. She doesn’t dare to meet his gaze as she settles back on her knees, biting her lip as she removes her hands from him.  
  
“I’ll get more clean water.” Imelda clears her throat as she rises to her feet. She goes to grab the water basin, but his voice stops her. 

“Imelda.” Héctor stands up from the couch, wiping his palms on his pants. He steps forward to her, taking her into his arms. Imelda could’ve sworn she felt her heart emerging from her throat as Héctor leans over and kisses her in response. She brings her hands up to rest on his chest, clutching at his shirt as she feels his hands come to rest on her waist.   
The two break away from one another, both of them grinning madly as they continue to hold each other close. 

“Héctor, I-” Imelda cuts herself off as she hears someone come through the door. The young couple quickly untangle themselves from one another. Imelda stands nearly at the opposite side of the room, her hands folded in front of her as Josefina strides into the sitting room. 

“How are you feeling Héctor?” Josefina asks the young man as Imelda reaches down to grab the water basin. 

“B-better. Thank you Señora.” Héctor nods awkwardly at the older woman. 

“Bueno.” Josefina responds “Raúl managed to get the men off of the property. I’m aware you’re not supposed to work tomorrow but I insist you sleep in the barn with Arturo and Mateo. You shouldn’t be walking back into town alone at night.” 

“Gracias.” 

“Imelda.” Josefina turns to her daughter, who was standing quietly with the water basin resting on her hip. “You’ve had a long day. Perhaps it’s time for bed.”

“Okay mamá.” Imelda nods as her mamá leaves the room. Imelda looks over to Héctor, who was staring at her. She gives him a small smile “Will I see you tomorrow?” 

“You will.” 

“Okay, Buenas Noches Héctor.” She walks over to him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Buenos Noches…Imelda.” Héctor responds, kissing her forehead before she walks away to the kitchen to dispose of the basin. Much to her disappointment, she doesn’t run into him again when she goes to her bedroom. She closes her door with a sigh, humming the song he had written for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many of the recipes have been taken or inspired by Di mi Rancho a Tu Concina and Binging with Babish's recipe for Tamales. If any of my Spanish is off please let me know.  
Thanks so much for Reading!!!!


	7. Sal y Mar

August 29, 1916

Imelda had woken early the next morning, her heart pounding excitedly as she springs from her bed. She doesn’t bother to change the water in her washing basin on her vanity, wiping her face quickly before walking over to her armoire. She stands in front of the open wooden door her eyes scanning over the various colours in her wardrobe before settling on her favourite garment.

She grabs the purple skirt from the armoire with a smile, placing the item on her bed as she grabs the blouse, she had worn the previous night. She decides to forgo stockings and her corset for the day, an unnecessary hindrance at the beginning of the morning. She slips the blouse over the chemise she slept in and steps into her skirt, tucking the blouse loosely into the waist of the skirt. She grabs her huaraches on her way out of her room, her steps almost silent as she goes down the stairs in her bare feet.

Not to her surprise she finds Josefina in the kitchen already, cleaning up from dinner the previous night. As Imelda steps into the kitchen, the older woman turns around, clearly shocked to see the young woman up so early.

“Mija, I wasn’t expecting to see you up so early.” Josefina comments, suppressing a yawn. Imelda shrugs, leaning on the doorway to put on her shoes.

“I realized I forgot…my…hair ribbons outside last night and wanted to grab them.” Imelda lies.

“It got pretty windy last night so they may not be out there.” Josefina says, turning back to wash the dishes. Imelda walks out of the door into the backyard, as she closes the door behind her, she nearly sprints to the barn. As she turns the corner of the house to get to the barn she collides with a solid form. Arms reach out and grab her shoulders to steady her, Imelda in return grabs the man’s forearms to orient herself. The young woman looks up to see the scrawny man she was looking for.

“Buenos días.” Imelda breaths, her hold tightening on Héctor.

“Buenos días.” Héctor repeats “How are you this morning?”

“Estoy bien.” Imelda removes her hands from him, her one hand brushing his bangs out of the way to look at the small scar on his forehead. “How does your head feel?”

“A little tender still.” He responds as he lets go of her shoulders, his hand boldly brushing her wrist. “How’s your wrist.”

“Sore still, but nothing I can’t deal with.” Imelda sighs as she pulls her hand back to her, breaking eye contact with the young man “I want to apologize…for yelling at you last night and say…thank you for what you did.”

“Melda, you don’t have to apologize…for anything. I acted rash and-” Before he can finish his thought Imelda stands on her tiptoes, kissing his lips to cut him off. On impulse Héctor wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close as she wraps her arms around his neck. Imelda abruptly pulls away as she hears heavy boots crunching against the ground near them. The two young adults stand at a respectful distance away from one another as Raúl walks into view.

“Bueno días mi Chiquita.” Her father greets her with a kiss on her cheek. “Bueno días Héctor. I hope you slept well.”

“I did, gracias.” Héctor’s voice cracks, obviously nervous at the possibility that Raúl had seen the two of them together. 

“Bien. Well enjoy your day off and be safe walking back into town.” The older man warmly smiles at him.

“I-I will.”

“I’ll see you at breakfast mija.” Raúl says, kissing his daughter’s temple before making his way over to the barn to get some early work done before the twins woke to release havoc. Imelda goes back to look at Héctor and the two begin chuckling together.

“We have to be more careful.” Imelda comments, Héctor nods in agreement, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, I’m sure you have to be going. Ernesto won’t take kindly to you being late.”

“No, he won’t.” Héctor agrees. “I’ll see you later today?”

“You will. I’ll be in the plaza in a few hours.” Imelda confirms, her hands reaching out to his. She squeezes his hands in hers, excited at the prospect of seeing him later in the day; away from prying eyes. Imelda reluctantly lets go of his hands with a smile before he walks away from her. She doesn’t linger once he leaves, not seeing any point as he wasn’t going to return if she continued to gawk after him. Imelda walks back into the house through the kitchen, where her mother was already blending the chilli sauce. Josefina looks over her shoulder at her daughter.

“Mija, could you start frying the tortillas. Keep in mind Arturo and Mateo are still here so they will no doubt be joining us this morning.” Josefina says, annoyance present in her tone. Imelda grabs the tortillas, made yesterday, off of the small kitchen table. She takes the items back to the stove where a frying pan was already heating corn oil. She carefully adds the small tortillas into the pan, trying to avoid getting splattered with oil.

“Do you want me to get the boys up after I’m done this?” Imelda asks, keeping an eye on the tortillas.

“Please do. Would you mind walking them to school this morning while you go to the market?” Josefina asks.

“Of course.” Imelda agrees, even though she knows it’s useless. The boys always skipped school to go fishing or invent something by the lake. She didn’t support it, but it was their lives, they could do what they wanted.

Imelda watches the tortillas closely until they turn golden brown, she removes each one from the pan; placing them on a towel to soak up the residual oil from them. She places them on a plate, sprinkling the tortillas with a little bit of salt. Josefina comes to Imelda’s side with the chilli sauce, heating it up on the stove as Imelda finishes frying the last of the tortillas.

“Mija, can you grab the epazote from the table?” Josefina asks as Imelda takes the last tortillas off of the stove. The young woman grabs a few sprigs of epazote from the table to bring to her mother. Josefina throws the herb into the sauce, stirring it in. “Tortillas please.”

Imelda hands the tortillas over to her mother, who adds the tortillas to the salsa. She turns the tortillas over until they are coated with salsa. Imelda grabs a serving dish from the cupboard, holding it next to her mamá. Josefina scoops the chilaquiles onto the plate.

“Put that on the table and then go get the boys up.” Josefina says as Imelda walks away into the dining room, putting the chilaquiles on the table. She gives a sigh before walking up the stairs to what was formally her parents’ bedroom. Imelda knocks on the wooden doors.

“Oscar, Felipe. Hora de despertar.” Imelda calls, groaning when she gets no response; meaning she would have to go into the room and force them up. She opens the door to the see the twins still sleeping in bed.

“Wake up.” She repeats, leaning on the doorframe. Oscar flips over in his bed while Felipe murmurs. Imelda looks to the side, spotting the boots place off to the side. She grabs the pair, whipping one at Oscar and the other at Felipe. On cue, both of the boys shoot up in alarm. “It’s breakfast.”

She spins on her heel before the boys could start yelling at her. She makes her way back down to the kitchen, from there she sees her mamá in the dining room; setting the table. It was nearly ten minutes before Josefina and Imelda got all the men together for breakfast. Besides the twins; breakfast was a quiet affair, the older men too hungover to talk to one another. The men don’t hang around much longer after the meal, heading to the fields to complete the day’s work. The boys bound upstairs to get dressed for the day and grab their schoolwork. Imelda and Josefina begin to wash the dishes from the morning.

When Oscar and Felipe come back down the stairs, Imelda wipes her hands dry on her apron and grabs the shopping basket.

“Talk to Sister Cecilia when you drop the boys off at school. I want to make sure the boys are actually going to school and learning something.”

“I will.” Imelda nods, she knew Josefina was concerned with the boys’ education. Often tasking Imelda with ensuring their success. Imelda grabs her shawl on her way out of the house and lets out a long sigh as she sees the boys throwing rocks towards the road.

“Vamonos.” She says walking towards the road. The twins' trail behind her, horsing around with one another. Imelda tries her best to ignore the two idiotas. Since courting Héctor, she had been forced to be around Ernesto; handling two idiotas was enough, four was too much. She walks a few paces further than the two, eventually having to come to a stop when she stops hearing the two. That was never good. She sighs before turning around to see what they were getting into.

“What is this?” She asks as she sees the two digging around in the long grass. One of them looks up at her before grabbing an object out of the ditch. She rolls her eyes when the twins emerge from the ditch with fishing rods.

“We had to grab them.” Oscar explains

“Yeah, mamá keeps taking them from us.” Felipe adds.

“Well you’re not going anywhere but school. Give me those.” Imelda forcefully takes the rods from the boys, slinging them in the basket.

“Come on.” Both twins whine, severely disappointed.

“You can go fishing after school. Sister Cecilia will talk to mamá on Sunday and mamá will ask about you two. How do you think she’ll respond when Sister Cecilia tells her about your conduct in school?”

Both boys look at each other, Imelda always hated it when they did this; it was as if they could speak to each other mentally.

“Fine.” Felipe huffs along with Oscar. As the trio continued on Imelda could almost hear the two sulking behind her. Imelda continues to ignore the duo on their way into town, trying not to fume at the obvious whispers between the two which were about her.

When they reach the town, Imelda slows her pace to walk with the twins, making sure the two wouldn’t escape from her. She walks them to the schoolhouse which was still attached to the church.

“Now, I don’t want to show up here this afternoon and hear from Sister Guadalupe that you two skipped out or were screwing around ¿entender?”

“Sí.” Both twins sigh, not happy about the situation.

“Can we get the rods back?” Felipe asks both twins’ eyes go to the rods sitting in the basket.

“You can get them back after your done class.” Imelda responds, shifting the basket away from them. The two roll their eyes at her before trailing into the schoolhouse with the other children. She watches the two disappear into the building, sighing as her mission was accomplished.

As Imelda walks away from the schoolhouse, she notices two familiar figures sitting on the steps of the gazebo. She approaches the two, trying to suppress a smile as she does so. God only knows she didn’t need her mamá hearing about her approaching the two musicos with a smile, one of them being the man she was explicitly told not to court.

“Melda!” Héctor greets with a smile. Imelda couldn’t remember when he started referring to her like that, only that she liked it.

“Hola.” She responds, carefully trying to keep her giddiness under control; considering who was sitting next to Héctor and was not so subtly scowling at her. “I heard you two playing as I dropped off the boys. You played well…Ernesto you were a little flat.” She quips, unable to help herself. Héctor chuckles at her jab towards his friend. Through his friend’s laughter, Ernesto’s scowl turns into a smirk, Imelda could swear she saw a glint in his eye before putting an arm around his friend.

“Well perhaps your Cariña would not mind if I delay you further, we should continue to practice. After all, we can’t tour knowing Imelda thinks we are flat.” Ernesto states.

Imelda’s heart drops… Héctor hadn’t told her anything about a tour. She looks to him; his laughter had ceased and was now rubbing his bicep while he chewed his lip. Imelda clears her throat, staring pointedly at Ernesto. He may have won, but she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing she was upset. She fakes a smile.

“Of course not! Afterall you seem like you really need it Ernesto. Adios.” Imelda walks away from the two men without another word. She can’t find it in her to respond to the vendors as they chat with her today, her responses simple. She had promised her mamá to keep her anger in check and at that moment, she was resisting the urge to maim Ernesto and even beat Héctor with her hueracha.

How did that idiota think it was fine not to talk to her about this. Was he planning on just disappearing without a word and leave it to María to tell her that he had left? She would have definitely beat him upon his return home. She sighs as she pays Inez for the produce. Was he even serious about her? She knew he was younger than her, 15 to her 16…but was he really that immature?

She debates going home without the boys, but her mamá had asked her to wait until the boys were out of school. She could potentially go to Lucia’s home and help her out around the house, at 4 months pregnant her friend was already struggling. She wasn’t sure if Lucia would appreciate her barging into Lucia’s home and dump her problems on her struggling friend.

She places the last of the produce she bought into her basket, smiling at Inez before she walks away from the Arango family stand. Still unsure where she was going. She shifts her basket in her arm, an object hitting the back of her knee. Imelda looks to see what had hit her; it was one of the fishing rods. She raises an eyebrow at the rod, it would be something to do which would allow her to collect her thoughts. Imelda marches out of the plaza towards the lake, not sparing another glance at Héctor.

Imelda knew where she was heading, under the oak tree, where Héctor had shown her their song. It wasn’t a good place to fish, everyone knew that; not that she really cared. It was secluded and she had fond memories of this place. She places her basket in the shade of the tree, taking off her shoes in the process to leave them with the groceries. The young woman grabs one of the rods and stalks towards the lake.

She inhales sharply as she steps off the bank into the cool water, the initial feeling surprising her.

She casts the line out, watching a distant splash in the water; giving her some indication of where her hook landed. She slowly reels it in, hoping the hook wouldn’t catch on anything. Oscar would kill her if she lost his “lucky” hook in the lake. She knew she wasn’t going to catch anything; she was in the wrong spot and was fishing with no bait. There was no surprise to her when she finished reeling the line in as the only thing hanging from it was a few plants.

“Melda…” his voice carries from behind her. She sets her jaw before casting out her line again, debating if she wanted to ignore him or chew him out. “Listen…I want to apologize.” He says quietly. Imelda feels much of her frustration melt away at his tone. She turns her head to see the young man, standing on the bank, his head hung low as he gazed up at her; those eyes full of regret.

“What were you planning on doing Héctor?” Imelda asks, in response to the young man shrugs. “Were you going to leave without any word to me? Leave it to María to tell me where you went off to?”

“No, I was going to tell you last night but…then you kissed me and….”

“What? You forgot?”

“I just…didn't want it to get in the way of…us.” Héctor holds his head up, trying desperately trying to convey his feelings. Imelda stares at him, knowing he was sincere; she was still angry about how she found out but…perhaps she could let this one go. Even though she was reluctant to.

“Do you want to join me? There’s another rod by the basket.” Imelda gestures over to the basket, Héctor nods in response. Imelda reels in her line as Héctor runs over to the basket, disposing of his shoes and socks before grabbing the rod.

He tucks the rod under his arm as he rolls up his pant legs to his knees. He comes to stand beside her in the shallow water. Imelda struggles to keep her eyes forward as she reels in her line.

Héctor clears his throat as Imelda finishes reeling in her line. Imelda finally looks over to him, to see the young man hadn’t cast his line yet.

“Ummm…‘Melda, would you help me with this? I’ve never used anything this fancy before.” Héctor asks, holding up the rod. Imelda chuckles at the odd request.

“What are you used to? A stick and some rope?” 

“Well… uh yeah.” At his response Imelda chuckles again, nodding her head before setting her rod down on the bank.

“Here hang on.” Imelda goes to him, pressing herself into his side. She rests her hand on the back on his elbow, while the other one rests on Héctor’s. “Press that button and bring your arm back.” Imelda guides his elbow back preparing to cast the line. “Now you’re going to cast it far and let go of the button, then just slowly reel it in.”

“Okay.” Héctor nods, following her as she guides him to cast his line. As he casts the line a smile comes to his face as if he was proud that he managed to do it. Imelda looks up at the young man, unable to stop herself from smiling at him. “I didn’t know you liked to fish.”

“I like it. I don’t often get much of an opportunity to do it anymore. Mamá has me in the kitchen more recently. She feels she allowed me too many liberties as a young girl and now as a woman, I need to learn my trade. No man would want to marry a woman who doesn’t know how to cook but could fish.” Imelda sadly smiles, recalling shortly after her quinceñera Josefina telling her she would no longer be allowed to help Raúl in the fields anymore and to leave the fishing to the boys.

“I would.” Héctor blurts, his word’s quickly occurring to him as he looks back towards the lake; a blush spreading across his face. Imelda finds herself mimicking his movements as she feels her face heat up at his revelation. “So…Uh…Oscar and Felipe like to fish huh?”

“Y-Yeah they do. They like it more than school, I nearly have to force the boys to go to class each day rather than fishing. I just worry over them, especially Felipe.”

“You really worry after him, don’t you?”

“I just…worry he’ll overexert himself. Mamá won’t even acknowledge his health and Papá won’t say anything that might upset her. Oscar and Felipe are just boys, it shouldn’t be a concern of theirs. One of us needs to make sure he takes care after himself and make sure he isn’t in pain.”

"Pain?” Héctor questions, looking at her for the first time.

“When the twins were young, Felipe got sick…. really sick.” Imelda sighs as she reels her line in. “He had polio, it was the only illness Oscar and he didn’t share. It was the longest amount of time the twins were separated. My parents took him to Morelia, Uruapan, Guadalajara, and even to the capital. No matter where they took him, all the doctors had the same thing to say about him; which was to enjoy our time with him as a family.” Imelda clears her throat, fighting back tears as she remembers the memory instead of casting out again.

“Imelda…” Héctor places the rod down, rummaging around his pockets before pulling out a red handkerchief and handing it over to her. Imelda smiles at the gesture, taking the cloth from him and dabbing her eyes with it. 

“Against everything doctors said, Felipe survived. He never fully recovered, he had to wear leg braces and walk with crutches for years after. He really should be using a cane but mamá refuses to acknowledge anything is wrong with him.”

“I find that mothers tend to pretend everything is fine when nothing is.” Héctor shrugs, sitting on the bank. Imelda joins him on the bank, putting the rod on the ground next to her.

“It seems so. Did your mamá do that as well?”

“Yeah, she did. When papá left us for the revolution, she pushed through and carried on as if nothing was wrong. Even once the landlord kicked us out of the house, she used to insist that there would be better things to come.” Héctor smiles sadly, he hardly ever discussed his mamá since her passing 3 years ago. “Even once she started working…there and some of those men treated her horribly, she remained so positive.”

“She had to take care of you.”

“Even after she got ill, she insisted she would be fine.” Héctor’s smile drops, his gaze resting on the expanding lake. Imelda stares at him, not pressing him to continue…she knew how this story ended.

It ended with a scrawny young boy begging on the corner for scraps of food or any spare change after the brothel owner claimed all of the boy’s money left to him. It ended with a boy being teased with the name ‘hungry Héctor’ and constantly having a black eye or bleeding nose. At least until a much larger and older boy took the scrawny one under his wing, protecting him from the other boys.

Imelda places her hand on his, giving it a slight squeeze in their silence. She continues to stare at him, taking note of every detail of his face before pressing a light kiss to his cheek. He looks over at her, eye widened at the sudden contact. He comes to rest his forehead on hers, his hand enveloping hers.

He begins to chuckle after a moment of silence, Imelda pulls back confused at the sudden outburst from him.

“What is it?” Imelda asks.

“I could feel your eyelashes brushing against my face.” Héctor admits. Imelda sighs, chuckling along with him. Héctor stops his laughing, pressing a kiss against her nose and then giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“How long will you be gone?” Imelda asks, the question had been eating away at her for the last 30 minutes. Scared about the answer.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “We’re scheduled for two weeks, but if I know Ernesto, he’ll extend it into months.”

“Oh…”

“I’ll write to you whenever I can.” He promises, Imelda shakes her head in response.

“Mamá will read anything addressed to me. It’s probably best you don’t.”

“Then I will try to get back here as soon as I can.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep musico.” Imelda teases, Héctor smiles in response.

“I fully intend to keep my promise mi amor.” He quips back. Imelda’s heart flutters at the new nickname.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Imelda says as she tangles on of her hands into his hair, pulling him to her. As their lips touch, Héctor untangles their hands, resting them on her waist to pull her closer to him. The two young adults pull away from each other, Héctor brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

It would be tough getting through an undisclosed amount of time without Héctor, but she was sure she could live with it. After all, if she was going to be with him for the rest of her life she would have to get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! I'm so sorry for the late update January was so busy for me. But I am back!  
Also, I found the polio headcanon on tumblr by Nevuela I believe. 
> 
> Next chapter we'll see a large milestone in their relationship!


	8. Consejos muy necesarios

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in this chapter, if you don't like it skip the last half.   
I didn't really get a chance to edit this so if you notice any mistakes please let me know!

December 14, 1916   
The last few months had been agonizing for Imelda, nearly every time she went to the plaza, she found herself waiting around until mid-afternoon to see if they had returned. On her most desperate of days, she would seek out María and subtly ask if she had heard from either of the boys. It had been nearly 3 months since she last saw Héctor since then she had turned a year older as did, he. She would’ve liked to wish him un feliz cumpleaños and celebrate with him as he turned 16.   
She sighs as she walks up to her home, she had spent nearly over 3 hours in the plaza today; more time than her mamá would’ve liked. She clutches the front her shawl close to her, the sudden winter chill getting to her. She hurriedly opens the front door to her house, welcoming the warmth of the building. Imelda brings the basket of groceries to the kitchen, slipping past Josefina; who was having a rest on the sofa. She places the basket on the small kitchen table.   
The young woman turns her head to see the twins in the fields, doing…who knows what, but from the way she was standing she could tell they were doing something they were not supposed to be doing. She breaks away from the small table, opening the backdoor and swiftly closing it behind her. She walks to the field, trying to figure out what the twins were up to. As she walks past the barn she feels a hand lightly grasp her wrist. Imelda turns to see who was grabbing her, her heart fluttering as she sees him. 

“Hold Imelda.” Héctor greets, without wasting a moment Imelda embraces him in a tight hug; taking note of the way he smelled. A smile comes to her face as she buries her face into his chest and he buries his nose into Imelda’s braided hair. 

“Welcome back.” She says, her voice somewhat muffled by his body. She pulls back from his chest to look at him in the eye. 

“I missed you.” The young man admits, holding her flush to him. 

“I missed you.” Imelda looks away, not baring to look at him in the eye as her admission. She feels his, rather large hand cup her face, bringing her to look at him again. 

“I missed you so much Imelda.” He says, his thumbs brushing against her jawline. Imelda wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him without warning. Imelda curls her fingers into Héctor’s slightly longer hair as his other hand comes to rest on her waist. She is initially surprised when he bit her lip, Imelda can’t help but let out an involuntary moan at his gesture, but ultimately decides against to return the gesture. Her moan surprises the young couple, resulting in them breaking away from one another. 

“I-it’s good to be back.” Héctor sheepishly says, rubbing his arm. Imelda interlocks her fingers with his before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

“Feliz cumpleaños tardío.” 

“Usted también.” Héctor responds with a kiss to her forehead. 

“How was the tour?” Imelda asks as Héctor laces their other hands with one another. 

“Estuvo bien. We started with a major competition in Puebla, then Tehuacàn, and then Oaxaca. We actually got held up there for a few weeks, trains got suspended for weeks. Had to play a few shows in between just to make up for the money we spent staying Oaxaca.”   
Imelda listens to Héctor’s travels with a smile. The young couple wander the quieter streets, holding hands when they thought no one was looking. They find their way to the lakeside, under their tree. Imelda lays on the earth, her head resting in Héctor’s lap as the young man quietly played his guitar.   
Imelda looks up at Héctor from his lap as she hears him hum along with the notes of his guitar. 

“Is that a new song?” Imelda asks causing the young man to jump at the sudden sound of her voice. 

“Y-yeah. I wrote it while I was away.” 

“Will you play it for me?” 

“Sure.” Héctor nods, starting the song over again. The beginning of the song sounded like a simple scale until he strummed the instrument. Imelda sits up and faces him to watch him play, resting his chin on her knee as Héctor begins to croon. 

“A feeling so close, you could reach out and touch it.   
I never knew I could want something so much,   
But it’s true.  
Only a song has the power to change a heart.”   
Imelda stares at his fingers as they move along the neck, completely mesmerized by the movements. Héctor clutches the neck of the instrument as he finishes. 

“It’s beautiful.” Imelda says after a moment of silence. 

“You think so?” Héctor asks, putting his guitar next to him on the ground. Imelda nods in response and in a bold move the young woman straddles his lap. “I-I wrote it for you.” 

“You did?” Imelda questions, Héctor nods in response as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Imelda closes the gap between them, Héctor hums gleefully at the contact with the young woman.   
Héctor pulls away from her, his head hitting the trunk of the oak tree as he does so. The young couple smile at one another as Héctor’s hand comes to rest on Imelda’s cheek, his thumb lightly brushing against her cheek. 

“I love you.” The words slip from Héctor’s mouth and immediate panic overtakes the young man. He removes his hands from Imelda as he tries to stumble out an excuse.   
Imelda stares at him, shocked at the profession. She doesn’t hear his panicked rambling, the only thing she could hear was her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Imelda presses her index finger to his lips, silencing him. 

“Héctor…I love you too.” With that Héctor’s arms were wrapped around Imelda’s waist, pulling her close to him as he crushes his lips to hers. Imelda feels his fingers dig into her waist as she shifts on his lap, their kisses becoming more desperate as Imelda's fingers tangle into his hair. Imelda suddenly pulls away as a shiver shakes her entire body, an unmistakeable throbbing between her legs.   
She rests her forehead on his, heavily breathing as she tries to regain her composure. As the couple stare into each other’s eyes, Imelda was sure she had never felt like this before. 

* * *

  
March 22, 1917   
The young couple had done their best to ignore the cool breeze around them as they sat by the lake alone. Héctor’s touches had been getting bolder by the second as his hand slowly slid down her back.   
Imelda breaks away from the kisses, confused as a large drop of water landed on her face. She sniffs the air around them, as more droplets fell onto the young couple. 

“Héctor we should go…” She attempts to pull away from him, however the large hand on hindered her movements. 

“It’ll pass.” He says, shrugging as he presses a kiss to Imelda’s neck. Imelda feels her arm hair stand on end as thunder crashes in the distance. 

“It’s going to storm Flaco!” Imelda squeals, jumping to her feet and dragging Héctor up with her. As the young man packs up his guitar in haste bigger drops begin to fall from the sky at a faster rate.   
Thunder crashed above them as the young couple ran from the lakeside while it had begun to pour on them. Héctor grabs Imelda’s hand as the young couple run through the town to find shelter. The two of them run as fast as they can through the town, shrieking and giggling under the sound of the thunder.   
Imelda’s heart quickens as Héctor comes to a stop in front of a small house. It was the Cruz’s residence. Héctor pulls her around to the back of the house, not noticing Imelda quickly scanning the streets to notice if there was anyone who might see them. The young man lets go of her hand as they come to a cellar door. He quickly opens one of the cumbersome doors, Imelda rushes into the cellar not wanting any water to get into the room. She comes to a stop at the bottom of the steep stairs to see a small room with a single bed, a small furnace stove and the floor was littered with several papers and stained with ink.   
She jumps a little when she hears the cellar door shut, expectantly waiting for Héctor to join her. Imelda begins to ring out her skirt, shedding some of the water from the garment. 

“I’ll get a fire going.” Héctor says, kneeling in front of the furnace to start a small fire to warm the room. “There that should be better.” He jumps up from the ground, brushing his knees as he comes to stand.   
He goes silent as he turns to face her, quickly averting his eyes as he begins to rub his neck. 

“what is it?” Imelda questions, looking down at herself to see what had made him react that way. She quickly found what had caused the young man to fall silent, her nipples outlined by her wet linen shirt. With a gasp she quickly crosses her arms across her breasts, hiding her slowly hardening nipples. 

“I-I didn’t mean to…well…I um…” Héctor stutters, unable to formulate any words. He still does not make her gaze, something which Imelda was grateful for she couldn’t bear to face him right now. 

“No, I…it’s…lo siento…I should have worn a corset.” Her gaze goes to the floor. 

“Well…I should be apologizing…you wouldn’t have been out in the rain…if it was for…me.” Héctor finally gains a bit of courage to look at her. Imelda tears her gaze from the floor to the young man. Imelda offers him a small smile, one which Héctor returns with ease. The young man clears his throat before gathering up many of the crumpled papers around the room. 

“Lo siento I should have clean before but…I was unaware I would be having guests.” He chuckles, Imelda uncrosses her arms to grab one of the sheets by her foot. “Ah…that one isn’t really good it’s um…” 

“Vulgar?” Imelda completes his sentence, reading the incomplete song lyrics about a prostitute’s breasts. Héctor sheepishly smiles, breaking eye contact with her again. Imelda looks down at herself again, the maroon of her nipples not showing as clearly through the shirt but still appeared through the fabric.   
Imelda takes a step forward towards Héctor as he disposes of the discarded papers. She clears her throat, getting him to look at her. 

“Would…do you want to…feel them?” Imelda asks, staring up at him through her lashes. Héctor stares at her, completely surprised at her boldness. “Héctor…tocame…”   
The young man steps towards her, his hand outreached towards her. He places his hand on her waist, much to her confusion. His thumb running over her ribs, he meekly looks up at her his gaze searching his. Imelda smiles in confirmation as his hand slowly makes its way up her ribcage until stopping at the underside of her breast.   
Imelda takes his hand, removes it from her ribcage and places it on her breast. Imelda bites her lower lip at the contact. 

“Melda…” He whispers, his other arm weaving around her waist as he pulls her flush to him, Imelda grabs his neck pulling him to kiss her with a whimper as Héctor softly squeezes her breast. Imelda arches into him as she pushes his mouth open with her tongue. Héctor lets out a moan as Imelda’s tongue explores his mouth.   
Imelda lets out a sharp gasp as Héctor runs his thumb over her hardened nipple. The young man chuckles at her response, kissing her again. Héctor’s mouth leaves hers, pressing a few kisses to her cheek before kissing down the column of her throat.   
Imelda slides her hand from his waist to his belt, her fingers undoing the buckle as she undoes it. A hand grasps around her wrist. 

“Imelda…” Héctor pants, resting his forehead against hers. “We shouldn’t.”   
  
“¿Por qué no?” Imelda breathily asks, her chest heaving against his palm. 

“You know why not. What if something were to happen?” 

“Like what? Who cares if we’re sinning, I don’t plan on telling Padre Luis. Do you?” Imelda presses a kiss to Héctor’s neck, a whimper emitting from the young man. 

“This isn’t something we can take back Imelda…what if…this…well.” Héctor removes his hand from Imelda’s breast and places it gingerly on her abdomen. 

“No me importa. Héctor…I love you and I don’t want to marry anyone but you or be touched by anyone but you. Por favor…tocame.” Imelda pleads.   
Héctor feels his resolve break at her pleads, his hand moves from her abdomen to the curve of her spine to pull her close to him, bringing his mouth to hers desperately. He brushes his tongue against her lips before pressing into stroke hers. Héctor’s hand slides down her back until it comes to rest on her ass. Imelda moans into his mouth as he firmly squeezes one of her cheeks. Imelda removes her hands from Héctor, moving them to her skirt. She hurriedly yanked the knot on her skirt free, letting the garment fall to the floor. Her hands then move to her shirt unbuttoning it with shaking hands, she presses herself closer to Héctor as the shirt joins her skirt on the floor in a pile.   
Héctor pulls away from kissing her to look at her, standing in nothing but her bloomers. Imelda swallows nervously as his eyes rank over her body, lingering on her breasts. She takes a step back from him, tucking her thumbs under the elastic of her bloomers and discards the fabric from her body. 

“Melda…” Héctor croaks. Imelda bites her lip as she notices a straining in his pants, she takes a step forward boldly rubbing his erection through his pants. Héctor lowly moans at the contact before his hands go to his belt, undoing the buckle as Imelda pulls his shirt off. Her hand grazes across his chest as she floats her way to his bed, staring at him through her lashes. She settles herself on his bed as he turns to face her. Héctor moves towards the bed, removing his belt. The air is heavy as he stands in front of her as Imelda peers up at him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he unbuttons his pants hurriedly. Imelda bites her bottom lip as he finally removes his pants, his foot getting caught as he does so. He stops himself from falling, shucking his shoes off along with the final garment. Imelda’s breath hitches and clenches her thighs together at his nakedness.   
Héctor gives her a shy smile, which Imelda returns as she allows her legs to fall open. He comes and stands between her knees, bending over to kiss her hungrily. Imelda moans as he captures her lips again. She feels his hand rest on her thigh giving it a squeeze, Imelda gasps as his other hand finds its way into the dark bush between her legs. She gasps as a long finger slides down her folds, brushing against the sensitive spot there. 

“Are you ok?” Héctor asks, retracting his hand from her core. Imelda nods breathlessly, her hand reaching out to touch his cock. She runs her palm over his length, causing Héctor to moan at the contact. 

“Tómame Héctor.” Imelda says, using her other hand to pulls him over her. Their breathing increases as he lies on top of her. She removes her hand from his cock as Héctor settles between her legs. 

“Tell me if it hurts.” He says, rubbing the head of his cock over her wet folds. Imelda grabs his hip, allowing him to sink into her. Héctor shifts forward slowly, gauging her reaction. Imelda stares into his eyes, waiting for the pain to come, but it doesn’t.   
It was a new sensation; it wasn’t painful as everyone often described to her about sex but just an unfamiliar pressure.   
Imelda wraps her legs around his hips, allowing him to slide further into her. 

“Are you ok?” Héctor asks, holding back the moan building in his voice. Imelda nods, gasping as he begins to move in and out of her.   
“Melda…you feel so good.” He moans into his ear. She lets out a breathy chuckle as Héctor’s mouth moves to her breast. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth, while his hand moves between their bodies until his fingers find the sensitive spot between her folds. 

“Héctor!” Imelda cries at the sensation, nearly overwhelmed with every touch on her body. Héctor’s fingers leave her core and his mouth detaches from her nipple. He begins to pound into hard and fast, his sweaty head resting on her shoulder as he increases speed. 

“Imelda!” he moans into her ear; she grabs his jaw pulling his lips to hers in an attempt to quiet him as he pulls out of her. Imelda whimpers at the sudden loss of contact, staring at him as Héctor pumps his cock erratically before spilling himself across her thighs and abdomen.   
He sits back on his knees, taking one good look at her splayed across his bed. 

“Eres tan hermosa.” He breathes. Imelda sits up, running a hand from his shoulder down his chest, resting her hand over his heart. 

“Te amo.” She responds with a smile. Héctor returns the smile, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck to kiss her again. 


	9. llega un momento

May 19, 1917

It was an unusually hot day for Santa Cecilia in May. Imelda sat on the bank of the lake; her orange skirt hitched up to her knees as her feet dangled in the water. She watches Héctor swim around the lake, he had tried to convince her to join him in the water, but she refused; worried that someone, dios no lo quiera, would see her swimming scantily with a man.

“Anything I could do to get you to join me diosa?” He asks, swimming towards her.

“Nada Flaco, I can’t afford some musico to ruin my reputation.” Imelda splashes water at him with her foot. Héctor chuckles swimming closer to her, capturing her ankle in his hands.

“As if you haven’t already.” Héctor says, pressing his lips to her ankle.

“Nope! I’m a perfect lady.” Imelda teases as Héctor peppers kisses along her calf. He looks at her skeptically, running a hand along her thigh under her skirt.

“You’re not wearing anything under your skirts.”

“Well, it’s hot!” Imelda rebuts.

“So much for being a lady.” He rolls his eyes as Imelda wiggles her foot out of Héctor’s grasp, resting it on his shoulder to push him further away.

“If anything, you’re not being a gentleman, Señor Rivera shoving your hands up a lady’s skirt like that.”

“I happen to know you love it when I shove my hands up your skirt.” Héctor grabs her ankle in his hand again, pressing a kiss to the top of Imelda’s foot. Imelda hums as Héctor kissing his way up her shin. He presses a kiss to her knee; he pulls away from her legs with a mischievous smirk. He palms both of her knees, spreading her legs apart. He floats in-between her legs, kissing his way up along her inner thigh.

“With your rough hands? No thank you!” Imelda over dramatically looks away, crossing her arms. She squeaks as she feels his hand up her skirt, his roughness brushing against her folds. She moans as she leans back on her palms as his fingers lazily circle her clit.

“You still so certain you don’t like it?” Héctor teases, increasing the pressure of his fingers.

“No.” Imelda manages to croak at the pressure. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to her thigh before he inches closer.

“What about this?” He responds, lifting her skirt up a little more. Imelda breathily yips as he licks up her core.

“H- Héctor!” Imelda calls, holding her skirts to herself to look at her lover. “What are you doing?”

He simply smiles at her, sucking lightly at the most sensitive spot. Imelda sighs at the unfamiliar sensation, she leans back on her palm as she closes her eyes. Her other hand runs through his hair, drawing him closer as he continues to pay attention to her pussy.

Imelda focuses on his ministrations, how his tongue gently prodded her entrance and brushed against her clit.

“Oh!” she keens, rolling her head back as he alternated between pleasuring her core with his lips and tongue. She writhes against the earth as she whines his name while he dips two of his fingers into her. Imelda rolls against him as she feels a deep desperate build up. As his lips brush against her clit, she jerks against him feeling herself getting tighter around his fingers as she feels her release finally. She collapses on her back, trying to come down from her high.

Héctor presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh as she slowly sits up, still not totally down.

“Now what do you think of my hand up your skirt?” Héctor chuckles, causing her thigh to vibrate. Imelda hums leaning forward towards him.

“I think I prefer your lips on my coño.” She smirks, as he wipes his mouth off her wetness. “Where did you learn that?”

“Well I always wanted to taste you but when we were in Guadalajara. Ernesto thought we should keep ourselves busy, so we went to a bar, had quite a bit to drink. He suggested then we go to a brothel.” Héctor explains, Imelda raises an eyebrow at him. “Anyway, he dragged me there, bought me a prostitute for the night and she gave me some tips.”

Imelda stares at him incredulously, she couldn’t believe that he was telling her. She, of course, knew the suitors or husbands did these sorts of things, but she never expected Héctor to be one of those men.

“Vale, Adios.” Imelda stands, scooping up her shoes as she does so.

“Q-qué? Imelda? What is it diosa?” Héctor scrambles at the sight of his lover walking away. He lifts himself onto the riverbank chasing after her in his wet skivvies. Imelda turns on her heel to face him, furious despite just what had happened.

“NO! You don’t get to call me that!” She snarls, shoving a finger into his face.

“Melda…I don’t understand…”

“A PROSTITUTE?!?” Imelda screeches, at this point not caring who heard her. Héctor’s eyes widen in realization and shakes his head “I never thought you’d be that type of man. I always thought Ernesto for sure, he’s low enough to pull this mierda out. But you? I always thought you were better than him.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Héctor says, almost like a chant. “Diosa let me explain.”

“You have exactly a minute.” She says curtly, crossing her arms angrily.

“Okay. ‘Nesto bought me a prostitute, he insisted I had to have more experience with women who weren’t you. So he bought me one…her name was Sofia…I think…it could’ve been Isabella…or…”

“You have 40 seconds.”

“Right! So, she took me back up to her room.” Héctor says, noticing the way Imelda set her jaw as he said that. “and we talked.”

“You talked?” Imelda questions, still not believing him.

“Sí! Sí! We only talked. She did try initially but I didn’t want to. I still wanted her to get paid and I figured she could use my time to sleep or tuck her kids into bed. But instead, she asked me about you and she answered my questions.”

“Questions? What questions?” Imelda asks her anger slowly dissipating. 

“I wanted to know…” Héctor rubs the back of his neck nervously before sighing. “I wanted to know how to please you. You always make me feel so good and I wanted to make you feel good.”

“Héctor.” Imelda sighs, feeling bad about her initial outburst. “You didn’t have to do that…most unions aren’t like that. You’re supposed to enjoy it, I’m not.”

“I don’t want it to be like that! I want you to enjoy it as much as I do.” Héctor peers up at her bashfully. Imelda takes a step towards his, grabbing his hand. She was so lucky to have this man in her life.

“Lo siento…for getting so angry.”

“No seas.” Héctor chuckles, squeezing her hand in his. “I did start with telling you I spent the night with a prostitute.” 

“You really need to learn to lie to me. Like regular husbands.” Imelda jokes. Héctor pulls her close to him, enveloping her in his arms.

“I would get Ernesto to give me some tips…but he’s also a terrible liar.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Imelda asks, placing her hands on his bare shoulders. Héctor shrugs as his mouth curves into a lop-sided grin, his thumbs brushing against her back. “You should get dressed before someone sees you like this.”

“If you wait for me, I’ll walk you home. I have something to ask your papá anyhow.” Héctor says, Imelda raises an eyebrow at her lover.

“A-about what?” Imelda asks her heart quickening at the prospect that Héctor might be asking her father for her hand.

“Hmm? Oh, I was going to ask him about a job for the summer.” He responds. Imelda nods, of course, that’s what he was going to ask her father about. Héctor had been planning on working on the farm for the season again to save up some money for future tours and a new guitar. 

Of course, there had been talk about marriage, but Imelda knew the possibility of that was at least a year away. Héctor spent money faster than he made it, no thanks to all of those tours Ernesto planned. She was 10 years old when resolved that she would never marry, it was the night before her cousin Gloriana’s wedding. Her aunts and mamá discussed what would be expected of her as a wife, that she had to maintain obedience to her husband even if he struck her. Imelda vowed then never to marry, she would never allow a man to dictate her life and what she could do with it.

Héctor had been an unexpected fault in her plan. She knew that he was different, that he would never do anything to hurt her or tell her what to do. She could trust him with her whole being. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-Isolation may make me update more. The next one might be by the end of the month or the beginning of April.  
From here on out the story is gonna start jumping around more at major points in Imelda's life.


	10. Salarios de verano

July 17, 1917   
Imelda carefully removed the stems and seeds from the peppers sitting in front of her in a bowl. Josefina sits across from her; peeling leaves from radishes. 

“Mija will you go get water from the well?” Josefina asks.   
  
“Of course.” Imelda replies, placing the seedless and stemless poblano pepper on the table. The young woman stands from the table and grabs the two water jugs by the door as she leaves the kitchen. She smiles as she sees a familiar lanky figure standing at the well. 

“Buenas tardes Héctor.” She greets politely, attempting to suppress the grin threatening to form on her lips. 

“Hola, ‘Melda.” He responds, not holding back his grin. Imelda feels a blush across her chest at his informality, something they never dropped when they were around her parents. 

“Would you help me with the water?” Imelda asks, attempting to get him to stay longer. 

“Ah-ha. About that, I really can’t.” The young man responds, Imelda raises an eyebrow at him. “Your brothers hit me over the shoulders the rank handle today.” 

“Which one? How?” Imelda demands

“I-I don’t know.” 

“That’s fair, they were basically the same person. Esas pequeñas.” Imelda curses, Héctor tsks and shakes his head at her. 

“Your mamá should wash your mouth out with soap.”

“She’s tried. It didn’t work.” Imelda smiles up at him as she casts the bucket into the well. 

“Of course, she did.” Héctor chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans against the well to watch Imelda pull up the water. The young woman transfers the water into one of the water jugs. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” Imelda asks, casting the bucket back into the well. 

“Nah, your papá told me to take a break while he dealt with the twins.” 

“Because they hit you with a rake?” 

“Well…yes. But also because one of then hit me in the shin with a hoe and the other hit me with a rock. 

“Please tell me your kidding.” Imelda sighs, resting the bucket on the edge of the well. 

“…Sí. I am…kidding.” 

“No mientas Héctor.” 

“Okay, yeah they did.” 

“Esos hijos de puta!” Imelda yells. Héctor laughs at her cursing, stepping away from the well as Imelda fills the second jug. 

“I’m going to go back to work before you get me into trouble.” He teases as Imelda straightens up. Héctor quickly looks around them before pressing a chaste kiss to Imelda’s cheek. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow mi amor.” He winks before wandering back to the fields. Imelda smirks as she watches him walk away. She picks up the two water jugs and goes back into the house. Josefina sits at the table, glaring at her daughter. Imelda’s heart rate picks up; did she see the kiss? 

“You really shouldn’t swear around men. It’s very un-ladylike.” Josefina simply says, going back to her task. Imelda sighs in relief, placing the jugs down by the door. 

Imelda walks over to the stove, lifting the pot lid to make sure the tomatoes, peppers, onion and garlic were cooking well; as well to check on pumpkin seeds were roasting. She removes the seeds from the stove as they turned golden, placing them in a small bowl next to the stove. She adds the sesame seeds into the same pan and quickly covers the cooking vessel, to avoid the seeds from jumping. 

Imelda looks over to see her mother blending up the poblano peppers and the cilantro at the table. She removes the sesame seeds from the heat and puts them into the same bowl as the pumpkin seeds. 

“Mija, the onions should be ready by now.” Josefina announces. Imelda nods, placing the bowls with the seeds on to the table near her mother. She goes back to the stove and takes the pot off of the heat.   
Imelda places the clay casserole dish on the stove and adds oil to the vessel. Imelda grabs a water jug while she waits for the oil to heat and pours some water into a basin in order to prepare for dishwashing.   
Josefina’s knee had been bothering her all day, nearly making the middle-aged women unable to walk. So, Imelda was taking on most of the heavy work for that day. 

Imelda grabs the blended poblano peppers from her mother and adds the mixture to the casserole dish while Josefina blends the seeds, lettuce, and cilantro. With much difficulty, she stands, walking over to her daughter with the new mixture. She hands Imelda the bowl with the mixture, who then adds it to the casserole dish. 

Imelda stirs the mixture and tastes it to see if it needs more salt. This mole verde was her favourite dish as a small child and even as an adult it was one of her favourites. It was also one of the first dishes she learned to cook as a pre-teen. She adds more salt, as she often has in the past. When the dish begins to boil Imelda grabs the pot sitting on the counter, which held the chicken they had cooked slightly earlier in the afternoon.   
She walks away from the dish to let it come to a boil, sitting at the table with her mamá. 

“So, I heard an interesting conversation with Señora Ortiz today.” Josefina says, placing the radishes in a bowl for tomorrow’s supper. 

“Did you?” Imelda asks, putting away the remaining seeds. 

“Yes, apparently Joaquín is no longer engaged.” 

“How horrible. I hope they parted on good terms.” Imelda responds dryly. 

“It’s fine. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to leave the city and of course, he’s set to inherit his father’s business.” 

“Mamá, que estas diciendo?” 

“Nada. I just thought it would be good for you to know when he returns.” Josefina shrugs. Imelda sighs, her mother had never been one for subtly. 

“Se lo que estas haciendo.” Imelda raises an eyebrow at her. 

“No estoy haciendo nada. It’s just….” 

“It’s just what?” 

“Well…you’re going to be 18 this October mija.” 

“And? What does that have to do with anything?” Imelda questions as she stands up to check on the chicken. Seeing it was near to the point on boiling she places the pot which held the red rice onto the stove to re-heat it. 

“I know all your amigas were married young, starting with Lucia’s well predicament at the time and of course that dreadful Carmen couldn’t let Lucia be the only one to marry.” Josefina says, Imelda chuckles at her comment; she always knew her mamá didn’t like Carmen, neither really did Imelda if she had to be honest.   
Josefina was right though, if Carmen had her way, she would’ve been the first to marry and have children; but instead shy Lucia had beaten her to both. Nearly 2 months after Lucia married Francisco, Carmen was engaged to a man she hardly knew and was married 4 months later. Margarita always was quick to do whatever Carmen did and married Pablo 6 months after Carmen’s marriage. Both Gloria and Imelda didn’t care about marriage or children until Gloria’s engagement over a year ago. 

Of course, it had changed for Imelda as well. 

“I think it’s time for you to find a serious suitor. Your aunts agree, your Tia Yolanda still has everything from Carla’s wedding.” Josefina sighs at Imelda’s disinterest. “Joaquín would make a good match for you. He’s a capable young man.” 

“Capable? Is that all?” 

“Well I’m sure he has other good qualities; I don’t know him well. His mamá is a pleasant enough woman and his papá is a hard worker, no doubt he has the same quality and would provide for you are your children.” Josefina says, Imelda cringes when the older woman discusses children. 

“Mamá I’m not marrying Joaquín.” Imelda says, turning away from the stove. 

“Lo sé… I’m just saying it’s time to consider suitors.” Josefina says. “a serious one.” Imelda turns away from her mamá in order to hide the blush spreading across her face, she chews her lips trying to decide if Josefina knew about Héctor and her. No, she couldn’t possibly know, Héctor and her were always so careful and she’d be much madder. Imelda couldn’t even imagine how Josefina would react once she learned what they had done together…multiple times now. No Josefina could never know that Imelda had given up her “virtue” to Héctor Rivera.   
She takes the mole verde off of the stove as it comes to a boil, taking the rice off of the stove as well. Josefina stands from the table, grabbing serving dishes from the cupboard as she comes to stand next to her daughter. Imelda serves the rice onto the clay serving platter her mamá was holding out to her. 

“I’ll put everything on the table. Go get the boys. I expect that Arturo, Mateo and Héctor will be staying for supper.” Josefina says, placing down the serving dish on the counter as she takes over Imelda’s spot. The younger woman wipes her hands on her apron, nodding at Josefina’s request.   
As Imelda leaves the house, she hears laughter coming from the barn; which was obviously the men. She walks over to the large structure, pushing open the cumbersome doors to find her papá, Arturo, Mateo and Héctor sitting on the ground, sharing a bottle of tequila between the four of them while Oscar and Felipe were back in the corner, no doubt tinkering with one of the inventions. Imelda puts her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at the men. 

“Parce que hemos sido.” Raúl chuckles at the sight of his daughter. 

“Imelda!” Arturo calls. “Come have a drink with us.” 

“I think not.” Imelda retorts. “Supper is ready.” 

“Gracias a Dios, que me muero de hambre.” Mateo exclaims as he struggles to pick himself up from a haybale. Imelda takes notices of where Raúl hides the bottle of alcohol, a rather poor spot between the stables and the doors. 

“Don’t tell your mamá.” Raúl says, squeezing her shoulder as he follows Arturo and Mateo. Imelda keeps in mind her brothers’ presence as Héctor lingers. 

“I should go.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Solo quédate. I think Ernesto could manage without you for one evening.” She jokes. the young man chuckles at that, nodding in agreement

“He probably could.” 

“Then it’s settled, you’ll stay for dinner. You can head back into town with Mateo and Arturo.” Imelda says, subtly brushing his fingers with hers. Héctor smiles at her and nods in agreement. She watches him leave the barn for supper with a smile. She grabs the twins by their shirts as they try to make their way past her. She spins their bodies around and blocks their way to the door. 

“What do you two know?” Imelda narrows her eyes, her hands going to her hips again. The twins share a look between the two of them before looking back to their elder sister. 

“Know what?” Felipe questions back, Oscar nodding in agreement. 

“Escucha ustedes pequeñas mierdas.” Imelda bends over, shoving a finger in their faces. “I will tell mamá that you two have been skipping school for weeks now.” 

“Well then we’ll tell mamá you’ve been seeing Héctor behind her back!” Oscar exclaims, flustered from Imelda’s confrontation. She straightens up, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Dios, ustedes dos son idiotas.” She sighs. “Okay, stop hitting Héctor with assorted items. Mamá and papá cannot know about him, so keep your mouths shut and mamá won’t know about your school records.”

“Deal.” Both the twins' nod in agreement. Imelda nods in response, stepping aside to allowing the two of them to leave the barn. She follows after them, closing the doors behind her. She walks into the house and goes to the dining room, once again suppressing her smile as she sees Héctor sitting next to her usual spot. 

“There she is. Raúl would you lead us in prayer.”   
As everyone around the table closes their eyes and folds their hands, Héctor grabs Imelda’s hand under the table. This had become a common occurrence between the young couple during prayer. Imelda never considered herself to be particularly a religious woman, so she didn’t care if this was frowned upon.   
The quickly unlock hands as a chorus of “Amens” echoes throughout the table. Imelda stares at Héctor from her peripheral, lightly brushing her index finger against his knuckles.   
Neither of them noticing the way Josefina was staring at them from the other end of the table. 


	11. Los dos bajamos juntos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that there are any major writing issues here I didn't get a chance to edit it.   
Anyway, enjoy!

September 5, 1917  
The young couple sit under their tree by the lake, Imelda straddles Héctor’s lap as she kisses the young man passionately. Her fingers tangle into his unruly hair, pulling it lightly as Héctor’s tongue explores her mouth.   
She suppresses the urge to grind against him, since a close call they had by the lake when Señor Cruz nearly caught Imelda on her knees sucking Héctor’s cock. They had agreed after that there could be no more public acts, since then the barn had become a favourite spot. Imelda untangles her fingers from his hair to place her hands on his shoulders, pushing herself away from him.

“We have to stop.” Imelda pants. Héctor rests his head against the tree as his lover pulls away, trying to calm himself down. She shifts off of his lap, settling herself on the ground next to him; her legs resting on his knees. 

“You have to stop doing this to me mi amor, you’re going to send me into an early grave.” Héctor chuckles, running a hand through his now tangled hair.   
  
“If you don’t learn to keep your hands to yourself, I guarantee I will.” Imelda raises an eyebrow at him. Héctor shrugs his shoulders innocently, pretending it wasn’t his wandering hands that had gotten them tangled up only moments ago. Imelda nudges Héctor’s arm with her shoulder. Héctor grins at her, placing a hand on the back of her neck to pull her to him for another kiss. Imelda hums into the kiss, placing a hand on his chest again. Héctor sighs as he pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as Imelda’s thumb brushes against the cotton of his shirt. 

“When was the last time you washed this?” Imelda furrows her brow, pulling back from him slightly. Héctor smiles at her comment staring at her intently, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he takes in the features of her face. 

“Cásate conmigo.”

“¿Qué?” Imelda asks shakily, her posture stiffening at the question as she pulls her hand off of his chest. 

“¿Te casarías conmigo?” Héctor repeats, placing his hand over hers which rested on the ground now. Imelda goes silent taking a moment to reflect on what he was asking. She knew this day was coming but she thought it would be in a few years from now, not…now. 

“Y-you want me to marry you?” Imelda asks slowly, still trying to process the question. “Where are we going to live? We can’t live in Antonio and María’s cellar when we’re married, nor can we live with my parents.” Imelda questions.   
Héctor smiles at her, removing her legs from him and he stands. He outstretches a hand out to her, offering her a hand which she takes, and he hoists her up from the ground. 

“Come on.” He says, leading her away from the lake. 

“Where are we going?” Imelda asks, her head still reeling from his question. Héctor nearly drags her through the town. “Héctor where are we going?” she asks again as they get closer to the plaza.

“You’ll see.” Héctor repeats for nearly the fifth time. The young couple come to stand in front of a large gate, a property that belonged to Señor Vargas. Imelda looks over at her lover questioningly as he pushes the gate open, the door squeaking loudly as it swings open. He extends his arm towards the gate, inviting her to go through the gate. 

Imelda hesitantly goes through; she remembers the way Señor Vargas used to yell at small children who would sneak into the house that once belonged to his brother. Imelda looks around the courtyard, she takes a step towards the awning resting a hand on one of the pillars. She looks over to the kitchen attached to the awning, this area and the room next to the kitchen would be perfect for a dining room. Imelda smiles at the small well in the middle of the courtyard, it would no longer be a hike to get water. 

“I-I’ve been giving half of my earnings to Señor Vargas since March, He recently transferred ownership to me.”   
Imelda feels her breath hitch, he bought her a house. Since she had turned 16 years-old many men had shown off with grand gestures in order to win her over, no one had ever done anything on this scale. 

“What about a job?” Imelda asks, turning to face him.

“I’ll play music…and until Ernesto and I make it I’ll work odd jobs.” He shrugs. Héctor walks over to her, taking her hands in his. “Imelda, mi amor, mi vida, mi Corazon. Te quiero mucho. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Sí.” Imelda says, squeezing his hands. 

“De Verdad?” He asks a grin coming to his face. Imelda nods, finding his grin contagious. 

“Por supuesto!” She giggles, not even startled by the loud grito Héctor lets out before picking her up by the waist and twirling her around. He gently sets her down, taking her by the hand and leading her through the house. 

“And there’s enough rooms at least ten children!” Héctor says, nearly bursting with excitement. 

“Ten?” Imelda asks, her face beginning to hurt from smiling. 

“Yeah! Why? Did you want more?” He responds. Imelda giggles at him, running a hand through his hair gently. 

“Let’s get married first and start with one, Flaco…then we can talk.” Imelda stares into his deep chestnut eyes. “Te Amo Héctor.”   
Héctor cups her cheek in response, running a thumb over her cheekbone and staring back into her eyes. 

“Te Amo Imelda. I’m so excited to marry you.”   
Imelda beams, not fighting back the tears forming in her eyes as she throws her arms around him. The young couple stands in the middle of the courtyard, wrapped in each other’s arms not caring who saw them at this point. They were going to build a life together here. 

* * *

  
September 14, 1917   
They hadn’t told anyone yet, only Ernesto knew about their engagement and Imelda had threatened his life if he as much whispered anything to anyone. Imelda was still unsure whether or not to tell her parents about the engagement or get Héctor to ask her papá for her hand first. Maybe Raúl would tell Josefina and she’d be more accepting of the couple.   
The young couple had time to decide what would be the right way to tell her parents. For now, they could enjoy being newly engaged without any of the stress. 

Héctor had been pleasantly surprised when Imelda had nearly pinned him to the barn wall as he grabbed tools. He was also pleasantly surprised when she fisted his shirt, crushing her lips to his. He pulls away from her affections for a moment. 

“I can’t stay long, your papá needs the scythes soon.” Héctor says, cupping her cheeks and pulling her lips back to his. Imelda hums into the kiss as he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her flush to him. Imelda withdraws her lips from his, tilting her head up at him to look at him. 

“That’s probably for the best.” She sighs. “Mamá is getting supper ready and needs my help, I barely managed to getaway. So better make this worth it.”   
Héctor chuckles at this, capturing her lips with hers again his arms tightening around her waist. Imelda’s hand rest on his forearms, closing her eyes as she savours the feeling of his lips on hers. 

“Imelda!” Josefina’s voice breaks them out of their trace. The couple withdraws from one another, Imelda pushing Héctor away with as much force as she possibly could. 

“Mamá! What are you doing here?” Imelda questions, her anxiety running rampant as her hands shook beside her body. She had never been so terrified in her life. Josefina narrows her eyes at the young couple. 

“Get in the house.” The older woman says sternly. 

“Mamá…” Imelda falters, beginning to pick at the skin around her nails.   
“Ahora Imelda Adelita Herrera y Posada.” Josefina says. Imelda looks at Héctor one last time before moving to the door. “Señor Rivera, I want you off my property now. I will arrange with one of my sons to drop off your payment for the week.” 

“Mamá don’t! This isn’t his fault, I distracted him.” The younger woman defends her fiancé. 

“Imelda I said get into the house” Josefina repeats. 

“No!” Imelda retorts. “I will not get into the house.” 

“Melda…” Héctor finally says something. 

“Not another word from you Señor.” Josefina barks before turning back to her daughter. “I won’t ask again Imelda. Inside” Imelda had never seen her mother so angry before.

“I won’t go inside mamá.” Imelda defines, staring her mother in the eyes. Josefina grabs Imelda by her wrist painfully and drags Imelda forcefully out of the barn. Imelda doesn’t resist her too much, afraid of hurting Josefina. The older woman pulls her into the house, jerking Imelda forward as she lets her daughter go. Josefina slams the kitchen door shut, her furious gaze not leaving Imelda as she stands in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Do you know what associating with that boy will do to your reputation?” Josefina questions, her anger growing as Imelda stands there with narrowed eyes and her fists balled at her sides. 

“I don’t care.” The young woman counters. 

“You don’t care? You will when you’re 40 years-old and unmarried because no man would marry the woman who was involved with ‘hungry’ Héctor Rivera. Do you know what his parents were?” Josefina questions, coming closer to Imelda. “His father abandoned them, abandonment breeds abandonment.” 

“He’s not like that.” 

“How do you know?” Josefina asks, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Luis Rivera was a deadbeat and Héctor will be exactly like him.” Imelda knows better than to argue with her if she was going to win this. But Imelda knew Héctor was nothing like his father.   
  
“Mamá please.” The young woman pleads. 

“Go to your room.” 

“Mamá…” 

“Now. I will not bother your father with this right now. You will not leave your room until I say so.” Josefina says, turning away from her daughter to go back to preparing supper.  
Imelda turns away from her mother, coming to the bottom of the stairs. She looks up them and then to the front door, debating to do as she was told or to run. She decides it would be best to choose the former. She goes to her room, shutting her door behind her. The young woman sits on her bed, tears threatening to fall.   
She peels off her boots, throwing them towards the door before laying on her bed. She doesn’t care if she messes up her hair, she finally allows herself to shed the tears that had been threatening to spill. She was going to fix this, she had to make this right. She thought of ways she could fix this before drifting off to sleep.   
………..  
Imelda wakes to a knock on her door, she sits up in her bed as her door creaked open to reveal Oscar. 

“Mamá says it’s time for supper.” The young boy says in a quiet voice. Imelda nods in response to her younger brother, who leaves the doorway shortly. She grabs her hueraches from the bed and puts them on. Imelda stands from her bed with a sigh, she had to face this.   
She walks down the stairs silently, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t ready to face her parents. Imelda takes her regular spot beside Raúl and Felipe, Josefina puts the carnitas on the table quietly. 

The dinner table is quiet with the exception of the occasional question asked by one of the twins, which was often met with a short reply by Josefina. With the exception of the prayer before dinner Raúl was unsettlingly quiet, he stared at his plate for the entire meal. Throughout dinner Imelda periodically looks over at her father, she had never seen him like this. Only once when she was seven-year-old, and he caught one of the farmhands stealing from them. Imelda clears the table of the dishes and washes them, trying to put off the impending conversation. She warms up well water on the stove, waiting for it to almost come to a boil before pouring the warm water in the basin. 

She hums her song quietly as she washes the plates. Imelda manages a smile as she thinks about the first time Héctor sang it for her. She clears her throat as she feels tears threatening to form, shutting her eyes to make them dissipate. She wasn’t going to cry. 

“Imelda.” Raúl’s voice makes her jump, she looks over to see her father standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Imelda nods stiffly, wiping her hands on her apron. She unties her apron and hangs it on the hook by the backdoor. The young woman sighs before walking out of the kitchen to the hall and then into their sitting room.   
Josefina stands by the window, her arms crossed and her jaw set. Raúl sits in his chair in the corner, tapping his finger on the armrest. 

“Papá…” Imelda begins but is silences when Josefina raises a finger to her. 

“Tranquila.” Josefina says. “Tu padre esta hablando.”   
Raúl runs a hand through his hair, messing it up as he scratches the back of his head. His hand comes around and begins to rub the stubble along his jaw. 

“Your madre has told me what she saw tonight between you and the Rivera boy.” 

“You like Héctor.” Imelda responds, only for Josefina to raise a finger to her again. Imelda sighs, getting really frustrated at her mother holding her finger to her. 

“I did. I like him until he took advantage of his job here and took advantage of you.” 

“It wasn’t like that. He didn’t take advantage of anything or anyone.” Imelda says, ignoring her mamá’s finger. “It was my choice; he was nothing but respectful.” 

“That may be so, but he still acted on his affections without asking our permission.” 

“If he had asked your permission would have allowed him to court me?” Imelda asks, picking at the skin around her nail, hoping that she could salvage this. 

“Of course not.” Josefina speaks up. 

“Josefina.” Raúl says sternly, looking at his wife then back to his daughter. “It’s not about that Mija. Héctor has no future.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What will he do for a job Imelda?” Raúl questions. “He’s a good man, but he’ll never make a living playing music. He will die penniless and hungry.”   
His words stabbed Imelda. How could he think so little of Héctor? 

“Imelda you’re going to be 18 soon. You don’t have time to be wasting time with Héctor. You should be allowing a more respectable man to court you now.” Josefina interjects. 

“Well, no responsible man would want me now.” Imelda jokes, without really taking the time to process what she just said. The young woman looked to her mamá, who was looking back at her with wide eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Josefina asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Imelda doesn’t respond, swallowing heavily as her heart pounds in her chest. Josefina cries out, collapsing on the couch. Imelda would’ve thought her mother was in pain if the woman hadn’t raised a hand to her. 

“Jesucristo Imelda!” Raúl growls, nearly scaring the young woman; she had never heard her father take the lord’s name in vain. 

“Do you realize what you’ve done, you stupid girl.” Josefina spits. Imelda waits for her shame to overtake, but it doesn’t. The room goes silent, tension high as a knock echoed through the house.   
Josefina stands from the couch briskly as she marches towards the door. Imelda’s stare remains on Raúl as Josefina opens the front door.   
  
“I told you I don’t want you on my property.” The older woman’s voice carries to the sitting room. 

“Lo Siento, Señora Posada…but I wish to talk to you and Señor Herrera.” The guest’s voice carries. Imelda spins at the sound of Héctor’s voice, she takes one step forward before her father is beside her; his arm blocking her from going any further. 

“Josefina.” The older man calls. “Let him in.” Josefina looks at her husband as if he had grown an extra arm, before reluctantly stepping aside to let the young man in. She closes the door as Héctor walks through the threshold, holding his straw hat in front of him. 

“Imelda go sit and be quiet.” Raúl says Imelda knows better than to argue and sits on the couch which faced the scene before her. Héctor stands in front of her father, standing tall but his nervousness clear in the way he was fiddling with his hat while Josefina stands behind the young man. “Why are you here Héctor?” 

“Señor Herrera, I have come here tonight…to ask you something.” 

“Que querias preguntar?” 

“I’ve come to ask your permission for me to marry Imelda.” Héctor says without taking a breath. Raúl sighs, running a hand over his stubble again as he regarded the young man. 

“How do you expect to support yourself and my daughter?” 

“I’ll work any job I can until I become a successful musician.”

“Still with the music Héctor?” Raúl questions. “Even with a wife, you wouldn’t be willing to give it up? So, while my daughter starves in Santa Cecilia you can go gallivanting across Mexico and eventually maybe, America.” 

“Anything I make on tours I will send to Imelda. Everything I make in the plaza and on odd jobs will go to Imelda.” 

“And when you two have children? If a child were to be produced as a result of your sin?” Josefina interjects, standing beside her husband.

“There’s no child.” Imelda stands from the couch, unable to remain quiet any longer. Josefina’s head snaps back to Imelda, silently telling her to sit back down. Imelda complies, biting the inside of her lip as frustration courses through her. Why didn’t she get a say? 

“My wife is right.” Raúl sighs. “Héctor, you are a fine young man. But you have no means of taking care of my daughter or any future children. I knew and respected your father, but I also saw what his lifestyle did to you and your mamá. I don’t want the same for my Imelda.” 

“Your daughter won’t starve!” Héctor exclaims. Imelda looks at him shocked, she had never heard him raise his voice like that. She looks at her father once more, eyes pleading with him. The room goes silent as Imelda’s parents stare at the young man.

“My answer is no Héctor.” Raúl repeats. “Go home and leave my property.” Imelda controls every emotion building in her. Héctor looks at her once more before nodding. Her heart sinks as he turns away from her and leaves. Imelda stares at the floor, trying to process everything that just occurred.

How could she be so stupid? To tell her parents about her indiscretions and to actually think they’d agree to her and Héctor marrying. She wouldn’t marry if she couldn’t marry him. 

Raúl and Josefina turn back towards her and at that moment, Imelda had never felt so small and helpless. 

“Go to bed.” Josefina says, clasping her hands together. “We’ll decide how to handle this later.” 

Imelda stands from the couch, her brows knit together as she stares at both of her parents. She pushes past her parents to head upstairs to her bedroom, locking her door behind her as she collapses in her bed. There was no fixing anything now. Her parents had spoken, and she doubted she’d ever be able to see Héctor again. She buries her face in her pillow, allowing herself to sob in grief and frustration; at her parents and at her own stupidity. 


	12. Todo lo que tengo para dar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quickly edited again! So if any mistakes are notices, please forgive me.

September 18, 1917.   
Imelda was confined to her house for the weekend, Josefina would barely allow the girl out of her sight. But come grocery day Josefina was unable to leave the house and reluctantly allowed the young woman to go into town to buy groceries. She was to escort the twins into town for school, they were to stay with her at all times while she shopped, and she was to return home by 10 am sharp; not a minute later.

There was no doubt that Josefina had already told most of her peers to keep Héctor Rivera away from Imelda. The young woman had seen several older Señoras chase off no good boys from the well-respected girls in the town when they came too close. 

“Hola Imelda.” Inez Alvarez greets as Imelda approaches the produce stand, leaving her brothers to fool around in the square. 

“Hola Inez.” Imelda responds with a smile.

“I hear about what happened. Your mamá told mine about it at mass on Sunday.” Inez gives her a sympathetic smile. 

“What exactly did my mamá say?” Imelda asks, scared to ask. She knew there would be no way that Josefina would tell anyone what had truly transpired between Imelda and Héctor. She wouldn’t risk Imelda’s reputation. 

“Only that Héctor Rivera showed up at your house and asked for your hand. What an embarrassment.” Inez laughs. Imelda looks at the younger girl, trying hard not to lose her temper at her cruelness. 

“Can I get 4 Tomatillos, 3 poblano peppers, 2 chilaca peppers, some coriander.” Imelda begins, watching the girl collect the produce. “4 cebollas, 3 heads of ajo, and some oregano.” 

“Is that all?” Inez asks as she hands the oregano to the other woman. Imelda nods her head, putting the herb in her basket. 

“What do I owe you?” Imelda inquires, grabbing her purse from the basket. 

“9 pesos por favour.” Inez responds. The other woman reaches into her purse, handing the younger girl the money. 

“Hola.” A deep voice appears beside Imelda. She looks to the voice to find Ernesto standing beside her. 

“H-hola. Señor Cruz.” Inez stutters, a blush spreading across the young girl’s cheek. Imelda can’t help but be amused at the girl’s response to Ernesto, she sighs as he meets his gaze. 

“Bueno dias Señora. You look lovely today.” He regards Inez with his most charming smile, causing Imelda to roll her eyes at him. 

“What do you want Ernesto?” Imelda asks, immediately suspicious of the man’s presence. His attention turns away from the young girl to Imelda, sighing. 

“Unfortunately, Señora Alvarez I’m not here to buy anything. I need to talk to Señora Herrera. Shall we?” Ernesto offers Imelda his arm, a gesture Imelda stares at; not taking his arm. The two walk away from the stand and come to stand in the plaza. 

“Ernesto I really don’t have time for this. I have to be home by 10 and I still need to buy fish.” Imelda huffs, she was already in a bad mood and at this rate, she would only have 15 minutes to walk home.

“Okay, fine. Just…Héctor wants to talk to you.” Ernesto says in a quiet voice. 

“I do too but I don’t have time.” Imelda sighs, pulling away from Ernesto to make her way to Señor Alverez to buy fish. Ernesto comes back to her side while she picks out fish. 

“Okay okay.” He huffs. “I’ll give you a ride home today.” 

“I’m not taking charity from you.” Imelda retorts, thanking God that Señor Alverez was partially deaf and couldn’t hear the pair as he wrapped her fish. 

“It’s not.” Ernesto raises his voice slightly, causing the vendor to look at them before going back to wrapping the fish. “Listen, do you want my help or not?” 

“Fine.” Imelda huffs, as much as she didn’t want his help it may be the only way for her to talk with Héctor. “Let me pay Señor Alverez and get my fish.”

“I’ll go ahead, and you follow me.” Ernesto quietly says. Imelda nods while reaching into her purse to hand the older man 5 pesos and takes her fish from him. Securely placing it in her basket, Imelda looks up to see Ernesto was already halfway across the plaza. She follows nearly 7 paces behind Ernesto, not wanting anyone to be suspicious.

She is unsurprised when Ernesto leads her to the clearing by the lake, to their tree. A smile appears on her face when she sees Héctor leaning against the tree. Ernesto turns to her with a smug smile, but she doesn’t pay attention as she shoves her shopping basket into his chest; making him hold it. 

Héctor sees her and can’t stop himself from launching himself to her, collecting her in his arms as he comes to stand in front of her. Imelda buries her face in his chest, inhaling his scent as she wraps her arms around his waist. 

“I’ve missed you.” He whispers in her ear. Imelda smiles up at him, shaking her head. 

“It’s only been 4 days Flaco.” 

“It feels longer.” He sighs. Her smile drops at that, she knew what he meant; those four days had felt like four months. Imelda detaches herself from him, straightening his red tie as she pulls away. Héctor’s hands remain on her forearm, trying to remain in physical contact with her as much as possible. 

“You have to stop coming to the property. I think papá means it this time when he says he’s going to shoot you if you come back.” Imelda warns, raising an eyebrow at him. Despite the tense evening a few days ago Héctor found himself coming to the property every day since and asking Raúl to reconsider, the older man never did. 

“Nah, despite what’s happened I think he still likes me.” He jokes, flashing her his most charming smile. 

“You’re not as charming as you think Musico.” Imelda smirks tugging on his cotton shirt. 

“I think my intended would say otherwise.” He retorts pulling her back into his arms. Imelda’s smile falters as he refers to her as his intended, her eyes cast down in sadness; everything coming back to reality. 

“Héctor…my father he will never give his permission.” Imelda laments, her fists clenching the fabric of his shirt. 

“Then I’m done asking permission.” Héctor answers. “Melda I love you; I’m not giving up on you.” She looks up at him through her tears. 

“How can you not? My parents will have me married off as soon as this is all over.” 

“Imelda, I know how important your familia is to you but…what if we got married without their permission.” Héctor removes his hands from Imelda, untying his tie from his next and placing it in her hands. Imelda opens her mouth to respond as he closes her hands around the garment. “I know. Take your time however much time you need. When you’re ready for me if you ever are, tie this to your window and I’ll be there that evening to get you.” 

“and what if I’m never ready and married to another man?”   
  
“Then I’ll come by every night and serenade you until you run away with me.” He jokes. She smiles at this, knowing he was joking he’d respect her decision; whatever it would be. 

“I need to go.” Imelda says, placing his tie into her basket. Héctor nods sadly. “I love you.” She brushes his cheek, before pressing a kiss to the soft skin. 

“I love you.” He responds, leaning into the kiss. She smiles as him softly, before turning away; not wanting him to see the tears falling down her cheek. Ernesto was true to his word and drove her home, neither of them say anything on the drive. 

“You can stop here.” Imelda says as they approach the house. Ernesto brakes the truck a little too hard, causing both of them to jerk forward slightly. “Thank you for the ride.” 

“Don’t worry about it and don’t worry about him. He’ll get back on his feet once you move on, he always does.” Ernesto cockily smiles at her as she opens the door. Imelda scowls at him, for once she thought he was alright but once again he proved her wrong. She gets out of the truck, slamming the door as hard as she can, causing Ernesto to wince afraid that she caused damage to the truck.   
She stalks off away from the truck, feeling a mix of emotion as she walks towards the house. Imelda walks into the kitchen, unloading her groceries onto the kitchen table when Josefina walks into the room. 

“Your home on time.” The older women comments as she watches her daughter unload the produce. “Did the twins get to school?”   
Mierda. She knew she had forgotten to do something while she was in town. 

“Yes. I made sure they got there.” She lies. 

“Good.” Josefina responds, looking over the quality of the produce. “You dealt with Inez today?” 

“I did.” 

“Mmm, that girl really must learn how to pick better produce. This Tomatillo has so many bruises. I’ll have a word with her mother about it at mass.” The older woman shakes her head. Imelda doesn’t respond, things hadn’t been the same since the other night. Conversations in the family were strained and tense. 

“Corundas for lunch?” Imelda asks. 

“That’s an excellent idea Mija.” Josefina smiles. It was the first time she had called Imelda that in days. “What’s this?” she asks as she picks up Héctor’s tie. 

“It was hot today, I thought I’d bring a handkerchief with me today.” The young woman excuses, taking the garment from her mother. The two sit down and begin preparing lunch, the tie sitting on Imelda’s lap as she debates what she was going to do. 

* * *

  
September 20, 1917  
Imelda sat up in her room after dinner reading, something she did nearly every night since she and Héctor had been found out. It got her away from the way her father stared at her or the way her mother talks to her now. She stands from her bed, putting her copy of Little Women on the surface. Imelda makes her way to the kitchen to get herself some water. As she reaches the bottom floor, she hears her mother call.

“Imelda is that you?” 

“It is.” Imelda confirms making her way to the sitting room to see both of her parents sitting there. 

“Have a seat Imelda.” Raúl gestures to the armchair across from him. Imelda takes a seat in the old piece of furniture, her heart hammering in her chest. “Your mamá and I have been talking about what we are to do given the current…situation.” 

“Because of the circumstance, both your papá and I believe careful steps need to be taken to retain your respectability. Especially with your virtue being…tainted.” 

“We both feel it be best for us to send you to your Tía Juana in Oaxaca.” 

“How long will I be gone for?” Imelda asks, raising a brow at her parents. The couple look at each other and then back to her. 

“We’ve written to your Tía and she’ll make arrangements with a respectable family down there with the intention that you will marry into the family. You won’t say a word about…him and everything will be behind us.” Josefina says, wringing her hands. 

“Your…marrying me off to a man we don’t know?” 

“Imelda don’t be so dramatic. If you hadn’t been so difficult all these months, we wouldn’t have to do this.” The older woman spits. 

“And what? I’m supposed to stay away from Santa Cecilia for the rest of my life?” Imelda demands, her brows furrowing in anger. 

“If your husband allows you too then you may come to visit.” 

“And papá?” The young woman looks to her father. “What about keeping family close and being the most important thing?” 

“You’ve left us with no choice Imelda.” He sighs, casting his eyes to the floor. Imelda suppresses every curse and acts of defiance running through her brain. She sighs, looking to the ceiling in order to stop her eyes from watering. She hated that she cried when she was angry. 

“When do I leave?” She quietly asks. 

“Your aunt will write to us with all the details. It will likely be in October, after your birthday.” Josefina says. Imelda nods before standing. 

“I’m finding myself to be tired. I think I’ll go to bed. Buenas noches.” Imelda walks off without another word, not even waiting for her parents to respond. She goes back upstairs, trying not to seem upset. As she walks into her bedroom, she closes the door behind her with a sigh.   
Her family had sold her, despite what they said she still didn’t feel shame in what she did with Héctor. Nor did she find any fault in what she had done. Her parents had raised her with the idea that family came first and to keep them close, yet they were sending her away without a second thought.   
She looks to her bed; her mind was made up. She grabs the red tie sitting on her bed and opens her window, tying the garment to the iron faux balcony outside her window before shutting it again. The young woman smiles as she looks at the red tie there, this was the first thing she had been sure about for months. She was going to marry Héctor, whether her parents liked it or not. 

* * *

  
September 21, 1917   
Imelda nearly ran upstairs once she finished washing the dinner dishes. Héctor would arrive right before sundown, she had to hurry. She throws her father’s leather suitcase on her bed hastily. She grabs her boots which sat beside her door, packing them first. Only her favourite things would go with her. She opens her armoire looking through the clothing hanging in there. She grabs several skirts, her informal ones along with her favourite blouses. Then she packs her undergarments; save for her corsets. Imelda makes her way to her vanity, grabbing her hairbrush and her ribbons. She looks over the jewelry, grabbing anything she thought had any value.  
The young woman strips into her undergarments, packing the clothes she wore during that day in the suitcase. She walks over to the bed where she had laid out what she was going to wear for her wedding. The skirt she had picked was a dark purple and plain while the blouse that matched it was white with a variety of purple, blue, and red flowers were embroidered across her chest. She quickly dresses into the combination, tucking the blouse into the waist of the skirt, tying a red sash around her waist. As she finishes tying the sash she walks back to her vanity, sitting at it as she braids purple ribbons through her hair. The sounds of something small colliding with her window echoes through her room, Imelda stands from the vanity and runs to the window. A smile spreading across her face as she opens it to see Héctor standing below it, a grin spreading across the young man’s face as he sees her. 

“Throw me your bag.” Héctor calls up in the quietest voice he can. Imelda unties the tie from the iron and runs back to her suitcase, throwing the garment into the bag before closing it. She grabs the spare sashes and ties them around the suitcase, hoping to god it would secure it in place along with the fasteners. She picks the object up from her bed, poking her head out of the window. 

“Estas listo?” She asks, Héctor nods as he takes a step forward. Imelda brings her head back into before putting the suitcase through the window and drops it from the second story. The bag drops to the ground with a thud, Héctor going forward to pick it up. 

“I don’t know if I trust myself to catch you.” He jokes. Imelda rolls her eyes at his comment. 

“I know I don’t. Wait for me I’ll be around in a minute.” She smiles at him as he nods, she closes her window and walks to her door. She goes to her vanity, blowing out the last candle in her room. She then stops at the door, taking a look around her childhood bedroom for the last time. The young woman quietly shuts her door and quietly stocks down the stairs in her nyloned feet, her boots in her hand. As she comes to the bottom of the stairs, she can hear her parents talking in the sitting room. Imelda walks turns the corner into the living room and then into the kitchen. She takes a breath as she comes to the back door and quietly opens it, slinking out of her childhood home. Imelda quietly closes the door behind her, her heart pounding as it clicks shut. 

She is quick on her feet as the door is closed, making her way around the house. She turns the corner to the front of the house, smiling as she sees Héctor standing on the stone walkway. Imelda runs to him, placing a hand on his cheek and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Let’s go.” Imelda says as she takes his hands in hers and leads him away from the house. The couple walk into town together, their laughter echoing down the nearly emptied streets. 

“Ernesto said he’ll meet us at the church. He was going to talk to Padre Luis for us.” 

“Ernesto is? What does he want in return?” Imelda questions, causing the man beside her to chuckle. 

“Nothing, he’s just being a good friend. I know you don’t like him; he’s just trying to extend an olive branch.” 

“Okay.” Imelda shrugs not totally convinced but not wanting to argue on her wedding night. The couple walk to the plaza, seeing Ernesto sitting on the pavilion. 

“Nesto! Over here.” Héctor calls waving his arm in the air to get his friend’s attention. The other man stands up and walks towards the couple. 

“Imelda… you look nice.” Ernesto says. “You could’ve even fooled me.” 

“Funny.” Imelda rolls her eyes. “Is Padre Luis ready to marry us?” 

“About that…” Ernesto trails off. “He won’t marry you two without having consent from Imelda’s parents.” Imelda and Héctor look at each other, wondering if this was all for nought. 

“How long would it take us to get to Colonia el Cárcamo in your papá’s truck?” Imelda questions, turning to Ernesto. 

“About 20 minutes.” Ernesto shrugs. 

“Then we’ll go there, I know the priest there will marry couples quick.” Imelda says, already stalking towards the Cruz’s residence, causing both men to run after her. Upon reaching the house Héctor throws her suitcase in the bed of the truck as Ernesto and Imelda climb into it. The young man comes around the side and squeezes next to Imelda in the front.   
Héctor begins to sing as the truck leaves Santa Cecilia, Imelda joins him after the first song. By the time the trio reached Colonia el Cárcamo all three of them were singing and having a good time.   
Ernesto parks the truck in front of the church, the trio get out of the truck; Héctor offering his soon-to-be-wife a hand, which she graciously accepts. Ernesto goes ahead of them and enters the church first. The Priest greets all three of them, looking questioningly at the small group of young adults before him. 

“I am Padre Juan. What can I do for you three?” The old man asks, clasping his hands together. 

“My intended and I wish to be married tonight.” Héctor states, grabbing Imelda by the hand. The Priest smiles at the young couple.

“Of course. In these unforeseen times, I see no reason why two people who wish to be married should wait. Come in.” Padre Juan steps aside allowing the young couple to enter the sanctuary. Ernesto takes a seat in the front pew and watches.  
The old man’s words echo throughout the nearly empty church, Imelda and Héctor standing at the alter their hands joined as they beam at each other. Imelda feels herself becoming emotional as she slips the ring onto Héctor’s finger and nearly cries when he places the ring onto her finger. 

“With the power vested in me and the church and states. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.” The priest smiles as the young couple. Imelda nearly launches herself into Héctor’s arms as he kisses her. Both of them laughing as they withdraw from one another.   
Ernesto signs as a witness on their marriage license, Héctor then signs the document and hands the quill over to Imelda. 

“Do I have to sign my family name?” Imelda asks the priest, who shakes his head. 

“If you wish you take your husband’s name you can sign with it, you will have to still change it legally.” Padre Juan explains, Imelda smiles at the man and looks back down at the document. Signing,   
_Imelda Adelita Rivera. _  
There was no going back now. 


	13. No voy a decir tu nombre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M content in this chapter.   
There will probably be a lot of that in these next few chapters (THEY ONLY HAVE SO MUCH TIME TO FUCK OKAY!)

Ernesto returns the truck to his house when the trio return from Colonia el Cárcamo that night, hoping to God that his father wouldn’t notice the truck had been missing. Imelda was expecting to go straight to her and Héctor’s home, but Ernesto had insisted they had to celebrate their wedding.   
The other man had gone inside to dispose of the key and get what he called Héctor's wedding gift. Héctor grabs Imelda’s suitcase from the back of the truck as they wait for Ernesto to return from the house. 

“How long do you think he’ll want to drink for?” Imelda asks, straightening the silk tie around her new husband's neck before smoothing the lapels of his brown Charro suit.   
  
“Until the bottle is gone.” Héctor shrugs in response. 

“We could always leave him; I was hoping I’d get you to myself.” She manages her best sultry smile, pulling him down by his lapels colliding her lips with his. Héctor hums into the kiss, his free hand coming around to cup her bottom. Imelda squeaks when he squeezes her cheek through her skirt. 

“I leave you two for 5 minutes and you two are nearly in each other’s pants.” Ernesto scoffs. Imelda withdraws from her husband, glaring at the other man who had interrupted them. She bites back a snarky comment towards the other musician, not wanting to ruin her wedding night. Plus, the bottle of tequila he was holding looked good.

“Let’s go back to our place to drink that.” Imelda sighs, detaching herself from her husband and grabbing his hand. The trio make their way down the street, each taking turns sipping out of the bottle. Héctor opens the front door to the house, about to lead his wife through the door. 

“Wait!” He exclaims, tugging Imelda away from the door and shoving her suitcase into Ernesto’s arms. Imelda raises an eyebrow at Héctor as he makes his way back to her, scooping her up in his arms bridal style. 

“Héctor!” Imelda shrieks as he picks her up. “What are you doing?” her husband turns around back to the door, entering the threshold of the house. He sets her back on her feet, cupping her cheeks before pressing his lips to hers. He pulls away from her with a grin, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs. 

“Alright.” Ernesto interrupts, shoving through the threshold of the house. Imelda rolls her eyes at the other man’s rudeness and follows him to the courtyard of the house. “Do you have any glasses?”   
Imelda looks to Héctor questioningly, actually unsure if there were any plates or glasses in their new home. 

“Yeah, there is.” Héctor confirms walking past Imelda into the kitchen. Imelda approaches where Ernesto was lighting several candles that sat on the table. The man sits with a smirk until the chair he sat in breaks under him. Ernesto curses as his tailbone collides with the stone ground. Imelda holds back a laugh as the young man falls. 

“Oh yeah don’t sit at the head of the table, I still need to fix that chair.” Héctor says, looking at his best friend on the ground. Ernesto grumbles rubbing his behind as he stands up from the ground, taking the seat on the right. Imelda approaches the table as Héctor puts down the drink glasses. 

“Please tell me Señor Vargas didn’t leave those behind.” Imelda says, picking up on of the glasses and inspecting it. 

“Oh dios, no.” he shakes his head. “María had tucked away my mamá’s dishes after she passed. It’s all hers.”   
Imelda smiles she knew Héctor did not have much of his mothers, it was nice to know that every day they would be using something that once belonged to Gloria Rivera. Ernesto fills the three glasses as Héctor sits down, pulling Imelda onto his lap.

The trio clink glasses before taking their shot. Imelda scrunches her face as the alcohol burns down her throat. Despite the unpleasant feeling, Imelda puts her glass back on the table silently asking for a refill. 

“You want more?” Ernesto asks skeptically as he refills his and Héctor’s glass. 

“It’s my wedding.” Imelda rebuffs, sliding her glass closer to Ernesto. With a sigh, he refills her glass. Imelda reaches forward and grabs the bottle as she drinks her shot quickly, refilling her glass and her husband’s. 

“Ay! Take it slow that’s good stuff.” Ernesto fumes from across the table, still holding his second glass. 

“You gotta catch up amigo, it’s my wedding night. My wife and I will drink as much of your tequila we want.” Héctor jests. Imelda looks to her husband as he runs a spare hand through his hair, exposing his neck. She stares at his neck, thinking about the way he moans when she kisses down the column of his throat. The way his thumb brushes her thigh over the fabric of her skirt nearly drives her insane. 

“Yeah? Well, you don’t want to drink too much of that stuff, or you won’t be able to perform on your wedding night.” Ernesto retorts. Imelda raises an eyebrow at the man sitting across from her. 

“No doubt you're speaking from experience. Gotten too drunk to stick your pito in some poor girl too many times Ernestitio?” 

“Cristo, somehow you're even more unpleasant to be around when you’ve been drinking. I get it, I’ll go.” Ernesto raises his hands in defeat, standing from the table her grabs the bottle of tequila. But not before Héctor can wrap his hand around the bottle. 

“Leave it.” The young man states, narrowing his gaze at his best friend. The older man rolls his eyes and let’s go of the bottle. 

“Make good choices.” He says before leaving through the gate, closing it on his way out.

“He’s my best friend, but I was hoping he’d leave soon. I want my wife all to myself.” Héctor pulls her closer, his hand bunching up her skirt until his hand rested on her bare thigh. Imelda hums in agreement as she rests her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her fingers against the suede of his suit. 

“You haven’t even shown me where our bedroom is.” Imelda points out, her voice low as her hand runs down the front of his chest. She stands from her husband’s lap, grabbing the bottle from the table and turns back to him. Héctor rises from where he was seated, eyes on her face before taking one large step forward towards her. Imelda backs up as far as she can go, the table hitting the back of her thighs. He’s close to her, his chest only inches from her as he traps her between his arms as he places his hands on the table. He leans over, his lips touching her earlobe. 

“It’s just over there.” He whispers lowly, savouring the involuntary shiver that goes through Imelda. Imelda sighs in disappointment as Héctor withdraws from her. “You go ahead, I’ll be right there.” 

The young woman grabs one of the candles from the table with her other hand, giving him a sultry look as she walks towards their room. 

“Don’t be too long.” She purrs, her hips swaying as she walks from her husband. She opens the door with her elbow and pushes it open with her shoulder. Imelda looks around the room, which was sparsely filled. In the middle of the floor were two blankets and two worn pillows, she smiles as she slips her huerachas off. Placing a candle near to their makeshift bed and settling the bottle of tequila next to her on the multicoloured quilt. 

Héctor emerges into the bedroom, holding two candles in his hands. He places them at the foot of their makeshift bed, the three candles were enough to slightly light the room. Imelda stands up from the quilt and closes the door behind her husband. Imelda slowly lets go of the doorknob, swaying her hips as she walks towards her husband; who was standing up from his crouch as he placed down the candle.   
She presses herself against him, hands on his chest and standing on her tiptoes to kiss his neck. Héctor moans as Imelda drags her tongue up his neck to behind the shell of his ear, before taking his lobe between her teeth. 

“Ah!” He moans, his hands circling her waist. She withdraws with a smile, pushing his suit jacket off of his shoulders; throwing the garment behind her towards the door. Héctor forcefully grabs Imelda’s hips, turning his wife around so her bottom pressed against his hardening cock. He leans back from her, untying her skirt and tugging it down her hips. Imelda steps out of the garment, shoving it back with her foot and tugs her blouse up over her head. 

“No corset? Señora Rivera, I’m scandalized.” He chuckles, inching her chemise up slowly. 

“Never again.” She giggles, untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt just as slowly as he was gathering her undergarment. Héctor growls impatiently, finally removing her chemise; leaving her breasts uncovered. He throws the linen garment into the pile with their clothes and shoves her hands aside, quickly unbuttoning his own shirt as Imelda removes her bloomers. 

“Fuck Imelda.” He curses, his cold hands cupping her breasts. Imelda sharply inhales at the coolness, which makes her nipples harden at the touch. He dips his head, taking one into his mouth. Imelda sighs at the sensation of Héctor’s mouth against her nipple, his tongue brushing over it; while his thumb brushes her other. Imelda moans, squeezing her thighs together in order to relieve the ache between her legs. His hand leaves her breast, reaching down between them to unbuckle his belt and then his pants. Imelda detaches herself from her husband, backing up and settling herself back on their “bed.” 

Héctor bites the corner of his lip as he watches his new wife, laying in their marital bed, naked and wet for him. He shucks off his shoes and shimmies his pants past his hips. Imelda gasps at the sight of his cock as he lowers his pants, biting her lip in excitement. He lowers himself to the floor, crawling towards her with a hungry gaze in his eyes. She squeaks when he grabs her ankle, tugging her towards him. He crawls over her body crashing his lips to hers. Imelda nips at his bottom lip with her teeth emitting a growl from him as his hand goes back to her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Héctor…” She pleads, pulling away from his lips. He smirks at her, his free hand migrating from her breast down her stomach, down to her throbbing cunt. She mewls as his rough fingers rub against her clit. “Héctor, por favor.”   
  
“What do you want mi amor?” he asks, teasing her entrance with his fingers. 

“Héctor, make me your wife now.” Imelda demands, gasping when he flips his forefinger into her before adding his middle finger with ease.

“Are you sure ‘Melda? I was planning on taking my time with you tonight.” 

“You have the rest of our lives to do whatever you want to me. I just want you inside of me tonight.” Imelda begs. Héctor nods, pressing his lips to hers. Imelda brushes her tongue against his lip, begging for entrance. He parts his lips, allowing her tongue to slip inside his mouth as he removes his fingers from her. She whimpers at the loss of contact but moans in his mouth as he glides the head of his cock against her slit, coating himself before entering her. 

“Ah. Mi amor.” Héctor groans as he fully sheaths himself in her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He begins to move in her, rocking agonizingly slow inside of her. “Imelda, mi diosa, mi corazón.”   
Normally Imelda would tell Héctor to shut up and fuck her quickly, but there was no rush tonight. No more hushed voices, or secret meetings. 

“Te quiero much, eres perfecta, tu eres mi diosa, eres an hermosa.” He moans into her ear; his thrusts slow and deliberate as Imelda’s moans echo through the room. Imelda whines, hooking her legs around him to bring him deeper. She grasps his shoulders, her nails digging into the skin. The young woman grasps his hair, bringing his lips to hers once more; hot and open-mouthed kisses shared between the newly married couple.   
As she raises her hips to meet his thrusts, Héctor feels himself coming close to his finish. Imelda’s mouth trails along his cheek and down his jawline before biting his neck, emitting a groan from the man on her. As she sucks at the sensitive skin, she can hear his breathing getting more erratic and his moans getting louder. She breaks away from her ministrations on his neck, staring into her husband’s eyes. 

“Finish in me mi amor.” Imelda gasps. 

“Really?” He asks, still thrusting into her. Imelda nods in confirmation, her hand coming to rest on his cheek. 

“Really, make me fully yours. Dios, Héctor finish in me.” With that he doesn’t need any more prompting, his movements become more erratic and fast-paced as he thrusts into her; his moans becoming louder in their room. He comes undone Imelda gasps as he finishes inside of her. Héctor collapses on top of her, resting his sweaty forehead against the pillow. Their heavy breathing the only noise in the room. The young man sits upon his knees, pulling out of her. He reaches for the bottle of tequila; taking a drink from the bottle and hands it to his wife.   
Imelda sits up on her elbows, taking the bottle from him and taking a drink from it; scrunching her face at the burn. Héctor sits back and watches his wife; noticing the way his cum drips from her pussy, down her ass. 

“You didn’t get to cum.” Héctor says, reaching for his undergarment to wipe his cum off of Imelda. 

“I still had a good time.” Imelda smiles putting the bottle down next to her. Héctor smirks at her, crawling back to her. 

“I'll make sure you do.” He teases as he licks her slit, causing her to gasp in surprise. It was going to be a long night for the newlyweds after Héctor made sure his wife was satisfied. 

* * *

  
September 22, 1917.   
Imelda was the first one up the next morning, she had panicked initially when she woke up next to Héctor. The panic dissipates when she sees the gold band around her finger, she smiles as she recounts the events of the previous night. She rests her chin on her husband’s chest, her fingers playing with his little tuft of chest hair. She smiles as his brows furrow in his sleep before opening his eyes. He squints at her as his brown eyes peer down at her, a small smile coming to his face as he stretches. 

“Buenos días.” She greets, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Héctor mumbles something in response, rolling his head away from her. She giggles. “Not a morning person Señor Rivera?” 

“Not when I have been drinking tequila the night before.” 

“I told you to drink water.” Imelda says, shifting off of her husband’s chest and sitting up in their makeshift bed. 

“Lo sé.” He groans, rolling onto his side away from her. 

“I have just the cure for you. Is there money for me to buy groceries?” Imelda asks, he sleepily nods.

“Look in my suitcase by the wall.” Imelda stands on the blankets, stepping over her husband’s groggy form to his suitcase sitting near their bedroom door. She opens the bag, noticing a small knitted drawstring bag in the corner of it. She grabs what she needs out of the purse. If she was smart enough, she could ration out the wages for next week's groceries.   
Imelda stands up straight, walking across the room to her suitcase. She quickly dresses in a red skirt, a plain white blouse and puts on her hueraches. She braids her hair down her back, tying it off with one of her purple ribbons. She looks back at her husband’s sleeping form and steps over it, kneeling over a brushing his hair away from his temple. 

“I’ll be back soon.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to the temple. He sighs in response, nuzzling his cheek into his pillow once more. Imelda stands with a smile, turning away from her husband. She quietly closes the door behind her, skin raising with goose pimples as the sun hits her skin; the warmth of the air enveloping her. She looks at the small building across from their bedroom, she steps across the stone ground and opens the door to the small room. It was dusty throughout the room, no doubt Héctor had cleaned their room before setting up their bedroom. 

She steps into the room; it was smaller than their own. It would make a perfect baby room when it came time, she approaches the window where a white iron bedframe lay. She leans over the frame, opening the window to let air into the room. She brushes her hands to get the dust off when she walks away from the window and back out to the courtyard. She looks around the rest of the house, she’d have to explore later, first breakfast.   
Imelda walks to the table, looking around the space in search of a basket. She sighs when her search is unsuccessful, deciding to test her luck in the kitchen. The young woman looks around the room, smiling as she notices a small dark brown basket sitting on the corner counter. She grabs it inspecting it, there were a few small gaps in the bottom and the wood was brittle, but it would do for now.   
She leaves her kitchen with the basket in her hand, not bothering to look for ingredients in the icebox. Anything in there would be far gone and or would be totally useless as she knew for a fact that Héctor did not know how to grocery shop. She leaves through the gate that sat between the two empty large rooms. 

Her walk to the plaza was now much shorter, something she appreciated; if she ever forgot something, she or Héctor could always run out and pick it up. She ignores the stares focused on her when she enters the plaza. It was only 10 am and it was clear nearly every Señora in town knew what had occurred the previous night. Imelda goes to the Arango stand to buy produce for their breakfast as well as groceries for the next few days. She goes into the butcher shop afterwards buying chicken, some eggs, and pork  
Imelda places the meat into her basket, shoving aside the produce and smiles at Teresa; the butcher’s daughter. As she steps out of the store, she notices Carmen, Margarita and Lucia with their children standing in a semi-circle in the plaza. The young woman approaches the group of young women, two of them look at her horrified. 

“Imelda, we’ve heard the most terrible rumour.” Carmen dramatically fans her hand over her chest. 

“Y que sería eso?” Imelda asks raising her eyebrow, wondering what could possibly be that horrible. 

“We heard from Catalina, that you ran away from home and married.” Margarita says, shifting her one-year-old son on her hip. 

“Not only that but that you married Héctor Rivera.” Carmen looks completely horrified, not paying attention to her two children running around like mad devils. Lucia says nothing, sympathetically smiling at her friend as she holds her 8-month-old son and little Rosita’s hand. 

“Yes, I married Héctor last night.” Imelda confirms. 

“Do you know what you’ve done?” Carmen hisses, crossing her arms in response. Imelda narrows her eyes at her childhood friend. 

“I know what I’ve done Carmen. You’ve been pressuring me to marry any man since you did.” Imelda challenges. 

“Not to ‘hungry’ Héctor Rivera. You were supposed to marry someone like…” 

“Like who Carmen?” Imelda cuts the shorter woman off. “Someone like Marco Estrada a man who is a known drunk and hits women? Like Joaquìn who acts like he’s smarter than everyone and believes women should be pretty and unheard?” 

“Just someone better.” Carmen huffs before turning away from them, Margarita following after her friend. Imelda looks to Lucia, who was inching closer to her. 

“Carmen’s just upset because Pedro won’t touch her anymore and Margarita’s always besó su culo.” Lucia shrugs her shoulders, causing Imelda to chuckle. The young woman looks down to see the small girl standing next to her mamá starting to fuss. 

“Gracias. Here, you finish your shopping, I’ll take Rosita.” Imelda reaches a hand forward. 

“Are you sure? Since Julio’s birth, she’s been so temperamental.” Lucia sighs. 

“Yo soy, ahora dame tu hija.” Imelda takes the small girl’s hand in her own, she squats down to the small girl’s eye level and distracts her as Lucia steals away to finish her shopping. 

* * *

  
Imelda returns home nearly half an hour later with her groceries. She places everything she didn’t need in the icebox for later and everything for breakfast on the counter. She gets water from the well, filling a pot with water and bringing it to a boil before adding tomatoes and the Guajillo and ancho chillies into it. She slices an onion, trying to blink away the tears forming her in eyes.   
She searches nearly every cupboard trying to look for a casserole dish of some sort, before finding it in the last cupboard near the door. She heats up oil in the dish, before adding the onions. She takes the pot with the tomatoes off the skillet and drains the water from them before blending them finely. She adds the mixture into the dish and waits for it to come to a boil. While she waits, she grabs another pan, placing it on the stove next to the other one. She allows for the oil to heat up in the other pan while whisking four eggs in a bowl. Imelda pours the egg mixture into the other pan, poking at the edges with a fork. 

“Smells good.” Héctor’s voice appears in the kitchen. Imelda turns her head to see her husband leaning against the doorway, his hair messy from sleep. 

“It should help you feel better.” Imelda says turning back to the eggs. As the eggs cook through, she scoops them into the chilli mixture. She feels her husband’s weight on her back as he drapes himself over her. 

“So, this is why men get married.” He jests, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I thought last night was why men get married.” She retorts with a smile. He shrugs in response. 

“It’s an added bonus.” 

“Of course.” She nods, stirring the eggs in with the chilli sauce coating them completely. “Can you grab me plates?” Héctor detaches himself to grab two plates from the cupboards. Imelda grabs one plate from him, serving two eggs onto the dish then handing it back to him. She takes the other plate from him and serves herself breakfast. The young couple goes to the table outside to eat, sitting in silence beaming at each other as Héctor devours his breakfast. 

“This is really good.” He says, mouth full as he shoves an egg into his mouth. Imelda shakes her head at him. She could get used to this every day. 

* * *

  
Héctor had departed for the plaza once the dishes from breakfast were cleaned and put away. He had promised to look for a new job once he and Ernesto were finished playing in the plaza. Though Imelda had hoped she could’ve spent the entire day with her husband, she also understood that they needed the money. She had taken this opportunity from not being distracted to clean the house. She had started with the empty room across from her and Héctor’s and then headed to the largest room in the house. She walks through the archway looking around the grand room, she had no clue what they were going to do with this room. It could be a sitting room perhaps, but as of right now they had no use for a sitting room this big.

She vigorously scrubs the floor with a brush she found in the kitchen that gives her splinters. Imelda ignores the pain of small pieces of wood digging into her skin, this floor had to be cleaned. She leans back on her knees and the balls of her feet, rubbing her dirty hands on the dirty apron she found. Her gaze is drawn to movement outside of the gate, she furrows her brows as she stands from the floor.  
Imelda walks towards to gate, her heart skipping when she sees her mamá standing outside of her house. They don’t say anything as Imelda opens the gate for the older woman, managing a small smile. 

“Would you come in?” Imelda steps to the side, giving room for her mother to walk through. Josefina walks past her daughter into the courtyard of the house, looking around the complex. “Mamá…I...” 

“This is what you left for?” Josefina asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re happy?” 

“Yes.” Imelda simply responds, wringing her hands. 

“You’ve always been so reckless Imelda.” Josefina sighs, shaking her head. “You want to make your own decisions, fine. But I won’t have your recklessness tarnish our family’s name.” Josefina walks past Imelda again, making her way to the gate. 

“Mamá wait.” Imelda calls after her, desperate to get the other woman’s attention. She turns back to her daughter, eyes narrowing. 

“I am no longer your mamá, I am from now on Señora Posada to you now. You won’t ever talk to my sons again nor come to our ranch. Have a nice life as a Rivera, because that is all you have now. Buena noches Señora Rivera.” Josefina turns away from the young woman and walks through the threshold, slamming the gate behind her.   
Imelda watches, heartbroken as the woman who had given birth to her and raised her turn her back, walking away from her life. She makes her way to their bedroom, grabbing the half-empty bottle of tequila that still sat beside their makeshift bed. 

She goes back to the kitchen, grabbing a glass. Imelda sits at the dining table, pouring herself a glass of tequila. She quickly downs the liquid, pouring herself another. Imelda slumps over the table, tracing patterns over the wood.   
Imelda has no clue how long she sits there drinking; she doesn’t even hear Héctor enter the house. She looks up when she sees him move in her peripheral as he sits in the chair across from her. He reaches his hand across the table, taking a hold of hers. They sit there in silence for a while, sharing the glass to drink. 

“I heard what happened. Lo siento mi amor.” Héctor squeezes her hand. “Your papá came to see me today in the plaza. He gave me my remaining pay.”

“You mean Señor Herrera.” Imelda corrects, Héctor winces at her comment. She immediately regrets the way she corrected him; she knew he must’ve felt bad enough about the situation. “Did he talk to you?” He nods, reaching into his pocket and places a small purse on the table. Imelda’s brow furrows at the small knitted object, it had been her Abuelita's. 

“He gave this to me.”

“What is it?” Imelda asks, reaching over with her free hand to grab it; shocked as she feels objects moving around inside of the purse. 

“It’s 280 pesos.” He says. Imelda stops handling the purse, shocked at the revelation. 

“For what?” Imelda chokes. 

“He said it was your dowry. He’s been saving a portion of his earnings since you were little. It’s yours to do with it what you want.” Héctor speaks, running his thumb over her knuckles. Imelda looks down at their hands clasped together as her eyes well up with tears. “Imelda…”   
She can’t hold back her tears anymore as he says her name like that, her lower lip trembles as tears run down her cheeks. Héctor stands from his chair without a second thought, coming to kneel next to his wife who was now just below his eye line. He pulls her to him, holding her as she sobs into the crook of his neck. 


	14. Es tan tranquilo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a time jump!

October 3, 1917   
Imelda had to admit that she did enjoy waking up in a bed as opposed to the floor. María had snapped at Héctor when she learned that the couple’s marital bed consisted of two blankets on their bedroom floor. The older woman had insisted that the young couple take possession of the bedroom set that had once been intended for her now-deceased mother. Not wanting to take advantage of the Cruz’s hospitality, both of them had refused at first. But María would not take the young couple’s response for an answer, continuously bringing it up until Antonio had finally snapped at the couple to just take the furniture.   
Still, the young woman was grateful to the family as she now had a bed, two side tables and two armoires for their clothes. 

She smiles from the doorway as she watches her husband of 2 weeks sleep in the very same bed. Stalking silently towards the bed she crawls onto the soft surface, running a hand through his tangled hair. She kisses his cheek lightly, coaxing him from his sleep. 

“Morning.” He yawns, turning to cuddle into his wife’s warm body. 

“Did you sleep well?” Imelda inquires as her fingers brush through his tangles. 

“Mhmm.” Héctor nods into her chest. She smiles as she presses a kiss to the top of his head before shifting away from him. Standing up from the bed she makes her way back to the doorway. 

“Get dressed.” She orders. “I have breakfast ready and I have something for you.” She smiles. Héctor looks up from her, his brows creased together. 

“Melda…you shouldn’t have. It’s your birthday.” He groans, running a hand through his hair. 

“So?” Imelda shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. 

“I should be making you breakfast and have a surprise for you. Not the other way around.” He protests, feeling guilty that he didn’t have anything to give his wife for her birthday; even though she had insisted he was not to do anything for her. Imelda smiles at him, trying to reassure him it was alright. Her birthday had never been a grand event in her childhood household, the only exception had been her Quinceañera now 2 years ago. 

Héctor sits on the edge of their bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he grasps his hair.

“Mi amor, it’s not an issue. We agreed that I’ll do the cooking and consider the surprise a wedding present for you. Just get dressed and come eat.” Imelda smiles, leaving her naked husband alone in their room. Returning to the kitchen, Imelda serves the chilaquiles and adds two fried eggs on top of the tortillas along with some sour cream and pico de gallo. She pours them both a cup of coffee as Héctor walks into the room, wearing only his light brown and black pinstripe pants and a thin cotton shirt. 

He grabs the two plates from the counter and takes them to the table, which now sat outside under the awning as the weather had started to warm. Following close behind him Imelda carries the coffee to the surface. The couple sit at the table together, Imelda takes a few sips of coffee before eating her breakfast. 

“It’s really good.” Héctor compliments, his mouth full. Imelda reaches over the table and hits him on the shoulder. 

“¡No mastique con la boca llena!” She scolds, sitting back in her seat. 

“¿Por qué?” Héctor pouts before sticking his tongue out at her. 

“Because when we have children, they are going to pick up your horrible manners and I will be blamed for them.” Imelda chuckles, shaking her head. Héctor stops his motion, his coffee mug not yet at his mouth as it hangs open. 

“Melda…are you?” He asks, trailing off. “Are we going…” Imelda stares at her husband questioning, wondering what could possibly have left her husband speechless. A sigh escaping her lips once she realizes his question.

“Oh no!” She places her coffee down, waving her hands. “There’s no baby, I’m just saying…someday.” Héctor nods, finally taking a sip of his coffee. As she looks at him, Imelda can’t help but wonder if there was a part of him that had hoped they were going to have a baby. 

“I see. Lo siento I just thought maybe because well…you said surprise and we’ve been together a lot since marrying.”   
  
“It would be too soon to tell anyway. Women don’t normally know until their 4th week.” 

“They don’t?” Héctor asks, causing his wife to chuckle in response. She realizes that she had to take into consideration that he was a man; this wasn’t his area of expertise. Nodding in response finally to his question. 

“But no that’s not your surprise. Finish your breakfast and I’ll give it to you after.” 

“Is that so?” He waggles his brows at her suggestively causing Imelda to smirk and shake her head. She reaches over the table again with her fork, scraping the food on Héctor’s fork back onto the plate. “Melda, diosa why are you so cruel to me?” 

“Because you keep me up late.” She retorts, taking another bite of her meal. 

“No te quejas.” He grins again at her, causing the young woman to giggle at his comment. Throughout breakfast, he continues to poke fun at his wife, who manages to snap back after each remark. 

“If you keep this up, I won’t give you your present.” Imelda threatens, grabbing the empty dishes from the table and takes them to the kitchen. 

“Imelldaaa.” He whines, following her into the kitchen and hugs her from behind, pressing kisses to her neck. “Mi amor, don’t be like that.” Unable to stop the smirk from forming on her face, Imelda turns her head to her husband. Grabbing him by the hand, Imelda wiggles out of his arms and pulls him out of the kitchen. 

“Come on.” 

“Señora River, you want me at this time in the day? What will the neighbours say?” 

“¡Cállate!” She rolls her eyes, still pulling him to their bedroom. Pulling him into the small room, she lets go of his wrist. Imelda squats to the ground, reaching under the bed pulling the object out by the handle. 

“Melda seriously, you didn’t have to get me anything.” He leans against the wall watching his wife grab something from his side of the bed. 

“Lo sé. I saw it and I thought of you.” Pulling the object from under the bed, Héctor’s brows draw together as Imelda picks up a black guitar case from the floor and places it on the bed. 

“Imelda, what is this?” He inquires, taking a step forward to the bed as she snaps open the case. Héctor’s jaw drops as he comes to stand next to her, looking at the white guitar sitting in the case. Chewing her lip Imelda watches nervously as her husband stares at the instrument. 

“A vendor was selling it in the plaza, and I know your guitar has seen better days. The seller said it plays well, I don’t actually know if that’s true but…I guess that’s something you could fix.” She rambles on. “If you don’t like it, I’m sure we could sell it.”   
Not listening to his wife beside him, Héctor runs his fingers over the neck looking at the mother of pearl inlays, taking in the fine detail of the beautiful instrument. 

“Imelda…” His eyes finally look at her. “It’s…beautiful. I love it.” Imelda smiles in relief as he grins at her. Reaching for her Héctor lifts his wife in the air, twirling around before setting her down gently. He presses a soft kiss to her lips before turning back to the guitar, picking it up and sitting on the bed. As Héctor strums the instrument as Imelda leans against the wall, listening to him pick and tune the guitar. Taking notice of how tenderly he holds it and the way he looks at it.

“Should I be jealous?” She giggles. Héctor looks up at his wife, still beaming with the gift he received. 

“She could never compare to you.” He stares at his wife tenderly before breaking out into a large grin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to head down to the plaza and show her off to Ernesto.”   
  
“Just be back for dinner.” Imelda smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his forehead as he begins to play their song. 

* * *

  
March 13, 1918   
It wasn’t a common occurrence that Imelda joined Ernesto and Héctor in the bar after a concert, but the men had been on tour for 2 weeks and Imelda had to be close to her husband the night he returned to Santa Cecilia.   
Sitting in the corner of the bar, the young couple sat against the wall; Héctor’s arm slung over Imelda’s shoulder while Ernesto sat across from them. Ernesto found the couple sitting across from him sickening as they clung to each other. 

“Cristo! Héctor let go of your poor esposa already. You two are acting like you spent a year apart, not two weeks.” Rolling his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink. 

“You’re the one who said I couldn’t come on tours anymore.” Imelda raises her brows at the man across from her. 

“Because you’re bad for business.” The older man states, crossing his arms. It was true Héctor had insisted Imelda came with them on a tour to Jalisco at the beginning of the year. Throughout the tour, girls wouldn’t even dare approach the musical duo after their set, since that tour Ernesto insisted that Imelda couldn’t join them anymore because she warded off girls. 

“I think we play better when she comes with us.” Héctor shrugs his shoulders, this earns an eye-roll from his best friend. 

“Girls don’t respond well to seeing a musician’s wife, especially one they’ve been fawning over all night.” Ernesto huffs, finishing the drink in front of him. 

“You are the one they fawn over. I’m the one you used to shove those girl’s unattractive friends to.” Héctor protests, before looking to his wife. “Obviously not since we’ve married.” Imelda scrutinizes her husband before rolling her eyes at him, finishing her drink.  
  
“Obviously.” She repeats, squeezing his knee. “You know Ernesto, if you stopped sleeping with their wives perhaps you guys would have male fans.” 

“Very clever Imelda. If you hadn’t weaselled your way into our band, we wouldn’t be having this issue.” A tight smile forms across Ernesto’s face. 

“Bien ustedes dos.” The young man cuts in, trying to ease the tension between the two most important people in his life. “We just got back. Let’s just enjoy ourselves with a couple of drinks, no talking music or arguing.” 

Reluctantly both parties agreed, resulting in the trio ordering more drinks. As more drinks were poured Imelda and Ernesto found themselves actually being able to stand each other’s presence. As another round of drinks were being poured Imelda constantly found her husband becoming more daring in his touches.   
The trio were there until Pedro closed the bar and had to force the three inebriated young adults out of the bar. Being the soberest out of all of them Héctor had managed to convince Ernesto to go home and not back to their house, he wanted his wife all to himself for the night. The young couple stumble home together, his arm slung around his petite wife’s waist. 

“Héctor!” Imelda yelps as she feels her husband pinch her bottom. 

“What?” He feigns innocence with a shrug of his shoulders, pulling Imelda further into his side. Burying his nose into her hair, taking in her scent. Imelda smiles as he continues to palm her culo. Stopping in the middle of the street he pulls Imelda into his arms, sloppily crushing his lips to hers. She hums into the kiss as Héctor backs her up against a building. Raising the skirt of her dress, Héctor hitches her leg over his hip to bring himself closer to his wife. 

She gasps as Héctor grinds into her, feeling her husband hardening as he moves against her core. Breaking away from her lips, Héctor trailing kisses down her jawline; nipping periodically at her skin. Imelda bites back a loud moan as he licks up her throat to behind her ear, drawing her lobe in between his teeth. Imelda feels herself getting wetter by the minute as he rubs himself against her. Hands slide to the back of her thighs; Imelda opens her eyes, remembering this particular move. 

“Wait.” She moans, stopping him from picking her up. 

“What is it diosa?” He breaths into her ear, causing a shiver to go through her. 

“Take me home.” Imelda stares up at him through her lashes, lowering her leg from his hip. 

“Melda, there’s no one here.” He protests, his erection becoming nearly painful. Imelda smiles, reaching forward and rubbing her hand against his hardness. 

“If you come home with me, I’ll take care of this for you.” Her voice is filled with lust as she withdraws her hand. Slipping out of his hold Imelda sways her hips intentionally in the way that drove him insane. She chuckles as she hears her husband swear behind her before racing forward to take his place beside his wife. 

“I can’t wait to get you into bed.” He whispers in her ear, pulling her close again. Biting her lip Imelda squeezes his bicep as they walk. The inebriated couple manage to stumble back to their home.  
Holding her promise to his earlier wish Imelda drags Héctor to their room, their front door shutting loudly behind them as she pulls her husband down by his shirt to crush his lips against her own. Héctor’s hands slide behind her thighs picking her up, carrying her to their bed.   
Unable to help herself Imelda moans as Héctor lays her down on their bed, licking down the column of her throat. Wrapping her legs around his waist, grinding against him in desperation. She whines as she feels his cock hardening again in his trousers, reminding her of her promise. Imelda sits up on her elbows while her husband unbuttons the closures on the back of her purple dress. Raising her skirt Imelda quickly discards her dress, revealing that she wasn’t wearing a chemise or bloomers. 

“Fuck Imelda.” Héctor curses at his wife’s naked form. Reaching for her husband Imelda strips him of his linen shirt and moves her hands to free his cock from his now restricting pants, her palm brushing against his cock in the process. Imelda hums in excitement as his cock springs forward, immediately taking him into her mouth. Throwing his head back with a moan as his cock is engulfed in her wet mouth. Imelda inhales deeply, staring into his eyes as she takes him further into her mouth then she normally does. 

“Diosa, you need to stop.” Héctor warns as he feels himself getting close. Imelda withdraws from him with a smile, drawing her tongue along the underside of his cock once more before standing. Héctor hurriedly lays on their bed, displaying himself for her. Smiling and unable to resist herself she kneels next to his form on their bed, pressing kisses along the length of his cock. Héctor grasps at their bedsheets as she curls her tongue against the shaft. Looking over his wife’s body as she kneeled next to him, he grabs her ankle pulling her body over his sternum. 

Despite being surprise by the way he had positioned her; Imelda continues to suck his cock. His moans echo through the room, his gaze focused on her glistening cunt. Finally, he reaches out to her, spreading her lips apart to see how wet and wanting she was. Héctor bites his lip staring at the gorgeous sight before him before leaning forward to finally lick Imelda’s slit, his tongue running from her entrance to her clit. Pulling away from his cock Imelda gasps at the feeling, despite this being a common move she always loved the feeling of Héctor’s tongue on her pussy. Taking this opportunity of his wife being distracted Héctor grabs her perfect hips and pulls her back as he lays his head back down; his tongue never leaving her cunt. 

“Héctor!” She exclaims as her husband settles her body onto his face, taking her clit into his mouth. She bites back a moan building in her throat, unsure if she should be enjoying this. The thought leaves her brain as Héctor presses his tongue up into her, making her whine in response. He periodically lifts her hips, allowing himself to breathe before burying his face back into her pussy. 

“Ah, dios.” She moans, breathing heavily as she grinds against his face. Closing her eyes Imelda focuses on how his mouth feels on her, his nose poking into her culo. She raises her hands, brushing her own fingers over her nipples. “Héctor, please.” She finally pleads, needing him inside of her. She feels him chuckle underneath her as she shifts off of him. 

“Are you that desperate mi amor?” He asks watching as Imelda straddles him. Grabbing his cock Imelda holds it steady, positioning the head of his cock against her entrance. With a thrust of his hips, Héctor buries himself into her in one motion. Imelda moans loudly as her husband stretches her, she rocks forward sinking him deeper into her.   
  
“Ah! Imelda!” He groans as Imelda takes all of him into her cunt. She bucks her hips forward, enjoying the sight of Héctor in front of her; his head thrown back and eyes closed as she rides him. Imelda shifts her legs down beside his thighs and leans forward, supporting herself on her arms as her hands rest next to Héctor’s head; her breasts right in front of his face.   
They both loved it when Imelda rode him like this, Héctor’s cock moved perfectly in her and it allowed for Imelda to grind her clit against his body; which always brought her to her release quick. She closes her eyes, grinding against him rapidly as she focused on how he filled her and the way her clit felt. Héctor leans forward taking one of her nipples into his mouth while he pinched her other one. She gasps as he rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and how his tongue curls around the other. Tangling her hands into his hair she pulls his face closer to her chest. 

“Oh!” Imelda mewls as she feels herself getting close, grinding harder and faster into him. Whining, she felt her desperate release building inside of her. She breathes heavily focusing on that feeling. Héctor sucks her nipple harder as he hears her moans becoming breathy. Shuddering Imelda finally feels her wall clench around his cock, her cries becoming strained as she finally releases. She collapses on top of her husband’s chest, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she comes down from her high. 

“Was that good diosa?” He asks, stroking her back lightly. Imelda props herself up, pressing her lips to his again as she begins to rock against him. 

“It was. Do you want to finish mi amor?” She questions, bringing him further into her pussy. 

“¡Sí! Oh joder Imelda!” He curses as she takes his full length into her again. Sitting up Héctor wraps his arms around her waist and flips them over. Imelda shrieks in surprise as he flips her onto her back, without leaving her. Imelda digs her nails into his bareback, pulling him closer to her as he begins to thrust into her. Jerking into her rapidly, Héctor breaths in Imelda’s ear as his pants become more frantic above her. 

“Finish in me querido.” Imelda pants, whimpering when he begins to pound into her with force. Héctor touches his forehead to Imelda’s own as she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer into her. Their heavy breaths echo throughout the room before Héctor’s body goes still above her, finishing in her with a whimper. He collapses onto his wife’s body, breathing heavily into the crook of her neck and wiping his sweat on his pillow.   
As he props himself back up to look at his wife, he presses a sloppy kiss to his wife’s lips before pulling away with a smile.

“Te quiero.” Imelda beats him to the words as she runs her hands over his shoulders. 

“Yo iba a decir eso.” He replies as he rolls off of his wife, pulling her into his side as he kisses the top of his head. The young couple lay on top of their blankets, nothing bothering to cover themselves before they both drift off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fork thing is something my partner and I do to each other. 
> 
> Hopefully, I'll be able to post twice next week but we'll see. I have a French final and presentation on Weds, then it's my Birthday next Saturday and then I have a History final on the 20th. So If I don't post regularly during this I apologize but I will try!


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